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#90's soft rock
kafernated · 1 year
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My first Obscure Song of the Day post. 😎
In 1994, Gloria Estefan released “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me”, her 5th studio solo album and her first album of cover songs. The album features cover songs which had a special meaning to her, including songs from Carole King, Elton John, Neil Sedaka, The Moments, Vicki Sue Robinson and others. This is my favorite from the album, a cover of Gerry and the Pacemaker’s “Don’t Let The Sun Catch You Crying.” 
I have a pretty eclectic and obscure music collection. Music is so important to me, and I find that my music tastes vary wildly by my mood. If you like Progressive Rock, Blues, Soul, Pop Music from the 50′s through the 90′s, Alternative Rock and Yacht Rock, then be sure to give me a follow. 
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fatgoth7 · 2 years
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teenagers scare the living shit out of you? babies scare the living shit out of ME
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hello, i just wanna say that i really like you even thou we don't have much the same taste but i think you are a very nice person <3 hope you have a nice day today
omg thank you so much!! you seem very nice too!
AND my tastes tend to shift quite a lot over time and i do like a lot more music than what i post(even if i do get stuck on one specific band/type of music for a long time, i like just about any music at all). i'm also always interested in learning more about the ones that i don't know very well yet, so if you or anyone else ever wants to info/song/video/album dump about favorite bands or things to me, on anon or not, i would love it.
even if there is something that isn't really my thing, i like understanding what other people like about it, which makes me like it a little bit more too, if only for that reason alone.
the entire reason i made my blog in the first place was to learn about bands and to feel less alone while doing that. especially ones that i've always heard of but didn't really KNOW anything about and there are SO MANY out there, i'm just slowly picking some off that particularly stand out to me at the moment one by one. but i still like to learn about any of them, preferably from a person instead of searching. plus there are too many, i couldn't possibly search everything myself.
ANYWAY aaaaaa i hope you have a nice day too!! and week. and month and year and life.
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dankalbumart · 1 year
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High Civilization by Bee Gees Warner Bros. / Warner Music 1991 Pop-Rock / Synthpop / Dance-Pop / Adult Contemporary / Dance-Rock / Soft Rock / Pop / Synth Funk
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randomvarious · 1 year
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Today’s compilation:
WOW Gold 2000 Christian Contemporary / Soft Rock / Pop-Rock / Christian Rock
Jesus fucking Christ, this was absolute torture, man. Just one of the worst listening experiences I’ve ever had in my entire life, and I’m someone who’s actually subjected themselves to an album’s worth of literal torture music before, with overdriven, pained, demonic screaming laid over thorny beds of loud and grainy static 😵.
Let’s make one thing perfectly clear here: the secular folks don’t necessarily sneer at the vast majority of Christian contemporary fare because of the strange and cultish messaging that’s baked inside of it; above all else, they sneer at it simply because so much of it is just genuinely...god-awful. It’s boring, it’s cornball, and it’s anodyne as hell. Lots of devout Evangelical types delude themselves into thinking that secularists dislike their whole parallel media economy—from the movies, to the TV, to the literature, to the music—because they choose to reject His message or whatever, but that really doesn’t have much to do with it at all. It’s really just that whatever this self-sustaining industry tends to spit out is oftentimes so mind-numbingly and disconcertingly unentertaining to outsiders.
And that’s what this alleged rundown of *big* Christian hits from the 70s through 90s is. The people who only consume this kind of music love this, but that’s most likely because it’s all they ever choose to consume in the first place. Most everything else that’s out there is awash in bedeviled sin and they forbid themselves from indulging in it. What a sad way for one to wield their own freewill by cloistering themselves within a closed-off environment of such uncreative crap. 
And again, it’s not about what the music says; it’s about how it sounds. Most secularists really don’t mind religiosity in music at all. If you can make something that sounds good, that’s all that really matters in the end. Case in point, Kirk Franklin’s “Stomp,” the only song on this compilation that’s actually worth your while. It’s an infectious late 90s funky hip hop-gospel banger; a God-fearing party rocker if there ever was one; a tremendously good time regardless of whether you heed its message to stomp out that ol’ wily Satan and his misbegotten band of evildoers or not. “Stomp” actually managed to achieve #1 status as Billboard’s top song on its Hip Hop and R&B Airplay chart back in 1997. And the album it originally appeared on, God’s Property, went triple-platinum as well, while also taking both the top spot on Billboard’s Hip Hop and R&B album chart and the #3 spot on its top-200 album chart too. See? A prime example of Christian music clearly transcending its own boundaries and reaching the secularist masses with astounding success. And the only thing it took was that it had to actually be good.
But outside of that one song, the rest of this album is marred by the fact that, broadly speaking, Christian contemporary music’s overall quality is just magnitudes below that of its secular counterparts in whichever genres it chooses to partake in. The pop, the pop-rock, the soft rock, the hard rock, the metal, the butt rock, the nu-metal, the punk rock...you name it; so much of it is just far, far worse than the secular stuff that it claims to be just as good as, if not better, than. And to assert otherwise is just simply laughable on its face. Listen to this collection of songs if you don’t believe me.
Highlights:
Kirk Franklin - “Stomp”
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wandasaura · 2 months
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BURNING BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN
summary — the annual maximoff memorial day barbecue has finally come, but so has a softer side of your dominants
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, mentions of dom/sub dynamics, this is 90% fluff, shower sex, quickie, fingering, oral, nipple stimulation, hickies, its relatively tame in comparison to what lives in this au, domestic fluff, mentions of pietro being dead as fuck, men/minors dni
authors note — remember when i said i was taking a little break? yeah i lied and im not sorry about it!
you are in love universe
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff
The warmth and promise of sunshine had quickly taken hold of Westview, days of long darkness and snow storms came to be just a memory, thawed out by butterflies and the occasional white dove that pecked at the birdfeeder on the back porch of the Maximoff residence. You couldn’t understand how the sky was so much brighter in warmer weather, but as you sat beside Natasha on the cusp of solid Earth, you thought it looked bluer than usual. The crashing waves before you licked at your feet and dampened the shorts you wore when the tide dared to try and swallow you whole, but like changing seasons, it never stayed quick. 
Sunrise had barely hit its peak and already the traces of pink and orange were just another mental memory for the big scrapbook of moments you never wanted to forget. The sand was coarse beneath the fingers that hours earlier had been dug into soft blankets, but refreshing and welcomed despite how small granules crept beneath your nails when you picked it up the wrong way. Natasha hummed an old lullaby beneath her breath, eyes closed and face tilted toward the sun like a lonely flower that had managed to grow in an abandoned field. You knew much about the woman's past, but not enough to understand her connection to the star that brought you light each new day. Now wasn’t the time to ask, but you knew that eventually you’d come to know the reason for her methods of relief in hard times. 
The first weekend of break had come on quick, and the barbeque that Wanda and Natasha had frantically tried to tidy the house for before your attitude interrupted them was merely hours away. Despite the plans and the people coming over, time had been taken out of the day to devote just to you. In this moment, sitting on the edge of solid ground beneath rays of sun that attempted to burn you, you couldn’t even explain how truly loved you felt. 
The beach was empty, void of the presence of others and quiet for your enjoyment, save for the seagulls who squawked over scraps and the waves that crashed against man made piers and naturally jagged rocks. Your toes were coated in sand, your fingers in the same state, but you didn’t care to think about the messy things at that moment, you only wanted to focus on the good. The good was Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close like a stray wave might succeed in carrying you out to sea. The good was Wanda’s perfume that lingered around the collar of your stolen shirt like the scent was woven into the cotton. The good was being here, being free and alive. The good was knowing Natasha. The good was having Wanda. The good was knowing love and having love.  
You laid your head down on the woman’s shoulder, noting how her hair seemed to glow beneath the sunlight. In this moment, it wasn’t auburn with scuffs of brown thrown in at the roots, it was orange like fire made by those long before lights and lanterns existed. She was ethereal, sat out beneath the early daylight, bearing her freckles for the sky to adore. You’d attempted to count them earlier, your gaze stuck on her naked face with blemishes and beauty marks sporadically thrown into the mix, but somewhere after thirty they all blended together and you settled for simply looking at them, admiring how you were somehow allowed to see them. 
You were happier in spring, happiest in summer, but recently, you have found those seasons in people. Wanda was like the early days of May, where weather was warm but also cold, and sunlight was soft but somehow harsh. Natasha was like summer, late July if you thought about a specific moment. Like the air she was sweet, but like the people she was calm, and like the night she was chaos wrapped up in laughter and loved company. They weren’t perfect, you would never call them such, but they were as close to it as people could get. 
A soft smile graced your features, and though you squinted to lessen the sting of sunlight, Natasha thought you looked stunning. When her eyes reopened and her head tilted downward to look at you, there was only affection smeared across her face. Her eyes that were so meticulously different shades of green had a spark within them that could only speak of the happiness she felt. How words had existed for so long and still there wasn’t one to describe the intense feelings that rushed through the both of you, you didn’t know, but you were content enough to rest against her with the knowledge that even if you couldn’t say it, you were both feeling it. 
“We’ve gotta head back soon.” Your beautiful moment was ripped into tiny pieces of paper that got caught in the breeze before they made it into the recycling can, and the smile that had turned your lips upward quickly worked in the opposite direction. You shook your head, digging your heels into the sand like the simple action might change her mind and make her forget about the barbeque that was starting at noon. “Not now. I need a couple more minutes of this.” 
You giggled softly when she nuzzled into your head, her wild curls tickling your nose because she hadn’t bothered to straighten them yesterday. You reached up, taking one of her curls between your fingers and pulling it taught, letting go to watch it bounce back into place and laid against her forehead with frizzy edges. You sighed in content, running your fingers through her wild hair that couldn’t be tamed in this state. “I like your natural hair.” 
Natasha crinkled her nose at your genuine admission. She puckered her lips and let them rest against your finger that was still in front of her face as you softly brushed strands of hair away from her eyes. “My natural hair is blonde.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You rolled your eyes fondly, snuggling even further into her side despite how hot you felt beneath the sun. No matter the weather you wanted to be pressed up into her, and it was clear that she wanted the same, her arm around your waist squeezed you tight, almost daring you to try and pull away prematurely. “When you met Wanda did she have red hair?” 
“No, the red is pretty new. It was brown, a little bit longer than she keeps it now. She was really leaning into the whole emo phase. We could never go out together if she didn’t have red lipstick and eyeliner, she always said it completed her look.” Natasha smiled fondly at the memories that came to mind when she thought about the beginning stages of their relationship, and you felt your own heart warm in your chest as you thought about the young couple they had been. You wondered what kind of odds had been stacked against them, but you didn’t question it, happy to just live in this happy moment. 
You let your hand fall back into the sand, rubbing circles that slowly became hearts into the malleable surface. The beach would always be one of your favorite places, but sitting beside Natasha made it better, sweeter. “How long have you been together now?” 
“Fourteen years.” Natasha laughed, her own hand reaching out to collect handfuls of sand that she let run between her fingers until only a few granules were left in her palm, and then you watched her repeat the process over again. “Sometimes it feels like it was only a couple of weeks ago, and other times it feels like I’ve never lived without her.” 
“I never hated her.” You admitted, though you had the slightest inkling that Natasha already knew that. She just had a way of knowing things before you did. There was no possible way anyone could hate Wanda Maximoff, and if you somehow stumbled upon the only person in the world who did, you didn’t doubt they’d meet a quick and painful demise. 
“I know, moya kroshka.” Natasha laughs softly, so softly the sounds of the waves almost drown her out completely, but you still heard her. You’d always hear her. “It’s coming up on a full year since we started this whole thing, have any ideas about what you want to do?” 
You shrugged your shoulders, reaching for Natasha’s hand when she lost interest in the sand. She’d taken her rings off last night and with the early wake-up call hadn’t put them back on. The slightest tan kissed her features around where they usually sat, and gently you brushed the pads of your fingers against the pale skin. “I just want to spend it with you both.” 
“We can definitely make that happen.” Natasha hummed softly, laying a gentle kiss on the top of your head where sunlight had kissed your hair. Your roots were warm, hot against her lips, but Natasha didn’t flinch away. You knew this moment was coming to an end, but you could appreciate it for the few seconds longer that it lasted. “Wanda probably has breakfast ready, milaya. We’ve gotta start heading back now.” 
“Can we come back?” You questioned softly, not wanting to speak too loud as if it could ruin the quiet atmosphere around you. As you stood, dusting sand off the back of your legs, you winced at the ache in your back when you finally found your feet and steadied yourself on them. Natasha did the same, a quiet groan slipping past her lips when she reached down to collect your abandoned sets of flip flops. With one hand occupied, she reached the other out to you.  
“We’ll find a day.” She promised with a nod of affirmation. Your hand fits easily in the palm of hers, your fingers curl around her scarred knuckles while hers lay flat against your unbroken ones. Together you’re a perfect balance. Delicate definitely, but not entirely harmless. 
Westview sits on the edge of New Jersey, the air tinged with the permanent lingrance of salt and sand. The farther you walk, the less prominent it becomes, but if you know what you’re looking for, the scent of the shore still remains. Houses closest to the water are painted soft colors that linger in the summer sunrises, vacation homes that are only occupied for a handful of months throughout the year, but the deeper you walk the more mundane it becomes. The town is a muted palette of browns and beiges, fences of white and cars of greyscale. It’s perfectly coherent, acceptably mature, but the Maximoff residence remains the outlier. In the blandness of tans and creams, the two-story house is a soft green color with vibrant red shutters. The cars are normal, though elaborate. Unlike the Hondas and Toyotas that occupy driveways and road space, Natasha’s sleek Corvette Stingray sits beside Wanda’s Audi R8 in the driveway, the only flex of their wealth that’s apparent. You like it though, like how they’re so different from everyone else. 
You make sure to kick the sand still clinging to your heels off before you step into the house, and immediately you’re met with the aroma of sweet sugar and maple. Natasha hums at the change of scent, leaving behind the traces of salt that had tickled her nose the entire walk back to the house in favor of discovering what Wanda had prepared for breakfast. She drags her hand across your back as she passes you, seeking out the presence of her wife. 
You're slower to follow, taking your time to meticulously stack your flip flops with the rest of the shoes in the entryway. They don’t match the aesthetic of Valentino loafers and Prada heels, but you smile at the sight anyways. Your favorite pair of white converse sit beside the shoes Wanda wears into the office every work day, and your balled up pink socks are tucked into Natasha’s running shoes for some reason, but the little traces of your place here makes you feel at home. You’re not so different from the shore that lingers through Westview in the winter, but unlike the water that’s abandoned when snow falls, they’ll never forget about you when the seasons inevitably change. 
“Where did you leave the stray?” You just barely catch the end of whatever conversation has led to that question when you finally appear in the kitchen. The sunlight is golden now, no longer soft with pink and orange, but it falls over Wanda like the perfect blanket anyways. She’s wrapped up in Natasha’s arms, pinned to the stovetop where bacon rests in a hot pan. The only indication that this moment is less than perfect is the hot grease that pops and splatters every other second when Wanda neglects it for too long. 
“You know, you should really be nice to me before I start biting your ankles like a real stray.” You hum, your voice carrying through the kitchen like it’s always belonged there, though it’s not a response derived from annoyance like it would have been only weeks ago. Rather, your words are layered with fond exasperation that Wanda finds herself laughing at. 
Natasha kisses the lawyer's shoulder, squeezes her waist tightly, whispers something in Russian that’s not entirely audible from how far away you stand, before she pulls away entirely and walks toward the refrigerator. You pout when she pulls out the near empty pitcher of orange juice, setting it down on the island to be poured into glasses when breakfast is ready. It seems you could’ve spent a few more minutes beneath the sun, but you don’t complain. This is just as nice, just different. 
“That’s my job.” You sulk, letting your naked feet slap against the hardwood floors as you approach with sadness written across your expression. “Wanda, your wife took my job.” 
Natasha only narrows her eyes at you, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips that she doesn’t even attempt to school. “It was my job first.” 
“Well it’s my job now!” You stuck your tongue out at her, sulking your way over to Wanda who lets you wrap your body around hers like a baby koala. With your front pressed up against hers, you have to crane your head backward to catch a glimpse of her face, but you're pleased to know she’s already looking down at you. You pout your lips up at her, grinning in victory when she kisses your frown away with a sigh of faux exasperation. “Can I have a new job?” 
Wanda laughs at your question, her fingers sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts to sit on the skin of your ass that’s still marked from days prior. You sighed in relief at the contact, leaning heavily into her chest when she rubs away the lingering ache that truthfully doesn’t bother you much anymore. It doesn’t last long, there’s still much to be done before noon rolls around, but you soak up every ounce of domesticity this morning has offered. “Sit on the counter and look pretty for me while I finish up with the bacon.” 
“Aye aye, Captain.” You giggle after saluting her, wiggling out of her arms and sliding your way up onto the countertop that’s practically become your designated spot since she stopped reprimanding you about sitting up here. Natasha crosses the little space between the edge of the island to where you’re perched watching Wanda cook, and you hum in pleasure when she leans forward to connect your lips. 
Your hands wrap around her shoulders and fingers tangle into the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. You smile into the kiss, beyond content with the little bubble that’s existed around you since being roused from sleep at five in the morning. A shriek of surprised laughter fills the kitchen when Natasha pulls away from your lips and buries her face in the crock of your neck, a raspberry tickling the sensitive skin as she blows against it. You squirm away from the sensation, but your arms still keep her locked in place. 
“Hi, Natty.” You giggle, tugging gently at the loose curls that your fingers are twisted between. She smiles at your happiness, pecking your lips a handful of times before she pulls away and whispers back the same greeting. “You smell like the beach.” You point out, giggling at Natasha’s extravagant eye roll. 
“You both smell like the beach and will be taking a shower after breakfast.” Wanda chimed into the conversation, tapping your thigh in warning as she opened the cabinet just beside your head. It had become routine at this point for her to simply work around you, so the clattering of plates beside your ear didn’t bother you much. 
When she turned around to grab the serving plate of belgian waffles on the island, your hand shot out to slap her ass, all thoughts of controlling your limbs forgotten. But really, who could blame you when she was wearing the shortest cotton shorts that had ever been sold in stores? Natasha had to bury her face in your neck to muffle her laughter, and you could feel her wide grin against your skin as you smirked innocently back at Wanda who set a firm glare in your direction. 
“Behave yourself.” She warned half-heartedly, absolutely no bite to her warning as you’d all just accepted the natural occurrence of the day, your roles as dominant and submissive forgotten about. You liked this exchange, not because you felt any less their equal when they bossed you around and set expectations upon your shoulders, but because it was the faintest glimpse at what life could be if they weren’t married and you were really their girlfriend. “Don’t even think about it, Natalia.” Wanda warned, already knowing Natasha was about to do the same thing you had been bold enough to accomplish. 
The redhead merely smirked and shrugged her shoulders, feigning innocence as she pulled away from your embrace and brought the drink glasses and pitcher into the dining room. You hopped off the counter the same as you always do, mimicking Natasha’s shrug when Wanda winced at the action. You grabbed the platter of bacon from her hands and followed after the lawyer who had already exited, eager to see where the day ended up, surrounded by the Maximoff’s closest friends and family members. 
-
The shower water was hot enough to create a thick fog on the glass doors and surrounding mirrors in the en-suite master bathroom, but still it felt cold as you joined Natasha beneath the heavy and unrelenting spray. You shivered despite the heat, reaching for the handle and turning it up even hotter, ignoring the Russian’s protests that her skin was actively melting off her bones. You liked hot showers, but you hated hot baths, and somehow you had yet to find a happy medium that worked for the both of you. Typically you’d compromise and switch off between who melted and who froze, and although it was admittedly your turn to freeze, today was not a day where you were willing to sacrifice feeling in your appendages.  
You silenced her whines with a desperate kiss, not even attempting to hide your need for her as you backed her up against the cold tile walls and pinned her hands to her sides. Your tongue was unrelenting as it licked and sucked at hers, tasting the minty toothpaste that she had rinsed from her mouth only minutes before you’d sought out her presence. When your teeth bit down on her tongue, just hard enough to send a shock of excitement down to her core, Natasha decided that being pliant in your hold wasn’t working for her. 
You shrieked in surprise when your position switched easily, the hands that had been firmly holding her wrists against the wall now pinned at your sides in the same way. You arched away from the cold tiles, effectively smashing your chests and eager nipples together as you attempted to run away from the cold wall.
“Fuck!” You shivered, your lips ghosting over hers. “You have a fucking Stingray and you still haven’t discovered heated walls?! What’s the point of having money if you don’t use it for good things!” Your words were quickly replaced by breathy moans as Natasha attached her mouth to your chest and greedily sucked a mark into your untouched skin; a mark that wouldn’t be easily hidden, especially not with the swimsuit you had been intending on wearing for the party. “Fuck, Nat–” You pushed her head away, hoping you’d acted quick enough for the damage to be only minimal. The smirk on her lips told you that you hadn’t succeeded, and you slapped at her shoulder in exasperation. “Your sister is literally going to be here in two hours, can you contain your vampire impulses until she leaves?!” 
“My sister has fucked her girlfriend in my guest bedroom. A hickey should be the least of her worries.” Natasha threw back at you, attacking her mouth to your nipple with purpose. You had ten minutes to sort yourselves out before Wanda came stomping up the stairs and pulling you out of the shower, orgasms or not. You did not want to spend the entire afternoon and evening hot and bothered because you got pussy blocked by a scary Sokovian. 
Natasha’s teeth pulled at your nipple, allowing the skin to sting for only a second before she soothed the pain with quick flicks of her tongue. Your other nipple was not privy to the same treatment, but her stumbling fingers attempted to make up for the neglect as she rolled and pinched at the pebbled bud. You shoved her head away from your chest, forcing her down onto her knees and in the direction of where you needed her most. It occurred to you briefly that you should wash her hair as she ate you out, kill two birds with one stone or whatever the saying was, but you quickly backtracked on that idea when her tongue sought out your clit with no lack of drive. Your knees wobbled, your breath got caught in your throat, and desperately your fingers tangled into her hair and pulled her closer. Your hips grinded against her face as she licked and sucked at your nerve with a passion, and you're certain that had the droplets of liquid fire not been falling over her face in a manner that was less than pretty, her chin would’ve glistened with your arousal. 
You arched into her touch as your orgasm approached, and Natasha had used the new position of your body as the perfect moment to bury two fingers knuckles deep in your cunt. You gasped in pleasure at the brief sting that came from her actions, crying out her name in pure bliss as she worked you over the edge so quickly you deserved an award for fastest achieved orgasm. 
She pulled away with dilated pupils, her own lust not forgotten about. You sank to your knees before her, pushing at her shoulders until she complied with your silent request and was laid out on the shower floor. Unlike you, she didn’t attempt to wiggle away from the flush of cold against her back, and unlike her, you didn’t waste time toying with her nipples. You dove straight into her cunt, lifting one of her legs until it was high enough to drop onto your shoulder. She tasted like she always did, but something about this situation made her more addictive. The spray of the water fell onto her belly, harsh droplets of water tinting the skin pink from not only the temperature but the pressure. One of these days, you’re going to get around to finding out the true pleasure of the detachable shower head, but today was not that day. You didn’t tease, much more intent at working her up and pushing her over before Wanda came to interrupt. Her clit throbbed beneath your tongue as you licked at her, and her walls clenched around your fingers as she pleaded for more. 
“Faster.” She moaned, her head thrown back against the white shower floors. The messy sprawl of her red hair was perfectly angelic, but you had no time to dwell on the sight of her as the minutes ticked down to none. Your fingers set into her at a punishing pace, curling into the sweet spot she loved so much until it was just a symphony of your name that rolled off her tongue in breathy whines and moans. You eased her off of the cliff with a practiced ease, giggling softly when she pushed your head away and subsequently caused water to spray in all directions as it bounced off her wrist. “N-Never letting you talk me into a shower quickie again. I think there’s an entire lake in my ears.” She panted, splaying a hand across her belly until she had managed to catch her breath. 
“I mean, technically I didn’t talk you into anything. I mouthed you into this.” You giggled, helping her stand and replacing your rough touch with something tender and sweet. You reached for Wanda’s shampoo, not caring that Natasha had her own right beside it. Wanda’s smelled sweeter, and if you were going to be the one to wash the woman’s hair, it would be you who picked the scene she bore for the rest of the day. 
You rubbed at her scalp, lathered until it bubbled, and eased your fingers through the knotted locks when it was time to wash it out. Wanda’s conditioner sat in her hair when the process was repeated on your head, and you sighed in relief when Natasha scratched her nails against the nape of your neck before trailing her hands down to your shoulders. Her thumbs worked on the soft muscles between your shoulder blades, and you melted into the firm attention. 
“How long can we stay in here before she breaks down the door?” You questioned, your eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself relax completely. Even if you hadn’t said it, you were beyond nervous to be meeting their family and friends. Some of the people attending their barbeque were big names in the security world, namely Kate Bishop, and you intended on making the best first impression if you were to ever have a career in the same field. 
“Three minutes.” Natasha chuckled gently, guiding you under the stream of water so she could rinse the soap from your hair. She conditioned you right after, twisting the strands of your hair between her fingers as she worked out the knots and kinks toward the ends. You rinsed her hair when she was done, dragged a loofa across her skin afterward, and then were rewarded with the same loving treatment. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Everyone coming knows how much you mean to us. They’re all excited to meet you.” Natasha kissed your shoulder before she turned the water off and squeegeed the door clean of droplets and steam, stepping out into the cold first before she offered you a towel. 
“I know.” You sighed, drying your body as you tried to force your feelings into words. “I just want to make a good impression. These are your friends. It’s your sister. They matter to you and Wanda.” 
“And you matter to me and Wanda just as much. If you’re worried about Yelena, there’s no reason to be. She’s going to act like she hates you because she thinks it's her duty as my little sister to vet whoever I choose to spend my time with, but by the end of the night she’s going to have you trapped by the firepit showing you pictures of her dog. When she met Wanda for the first time, she insulted her in Russian because she thought she wouldn’t understand.” Natasha snorted at the memory, and you couldn’t help but grin bashfully at the admission. “You’re going to get along fine, and honestly that worries me. I can barely handle you by yourself.” 
“Hey!” You slapped at her side, but couldn’t help the wide smile that threatened to split your lips in half as you stared up at her. “I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.” 
“I don’t doubt that, утенок.” Natasha leaned forward to kiss your lips, and you returned the gesture though a crinkle of confusion settled across your brows. 
You asked once she pulled away, wrapping the towel tightly around your torso so that you could make a break for the guest bedroom where your outfit for the day remained. “What does that one mean?” 
“Duckling.” She laughed, and you groaned knowing that it was going to stick around, at least for a little while. You’d been quite privy to Wanda in recent days, call it making up for lost time if you really had to explain your reasonings, and both the Russian and Sokovian had chalked up your clinginess as acts of a duckling blindly following its mother. If Wanda was anywhere in the house, you were right behind her. Yesterday you had genuinely pouted at the bathroom door when she forbade you from coming in with her when she needed to pee, and unluckily enough for you, Natasha had come into the bedroom at just the right time to watch the scene unfold. “Go get dressed. Yelena said she’s arriving at twelve which really means she’ll be here in twenty minutes.”  
You nodded quickly, bolting out of the master bathroom and into your claimed bedroom without a moment of hesitance, not wanting Yelena to arrive before you were dressed. The door wasn’t even fully closed before you were dropping your towel and scrambling to find your bathing suit bottoms in the pile of messy clothes stacked on the dresser. 
-
Droplets of chlorinated water lingered on touches of skin that had yet to be dried by the slowly slipping Spring sun; still a ripple of motion in the pool that hadn’t yet gone completely still with the fresh absence of bodies in the water. The crack of wood submitting to controlled flames accompanied the music of laughter and conversation that happened around you. The evening was long ahead of you, eternal more hours of company promised, but you didn’t feel any obligation to join in on jokes and memories as you fell into Wanda’s lap and snuggled in close, seeking her warmth and comfort as a chill set overtop of you. You’d been drinking all afternoon, being handed hard seltzers and beers whenever anyone noticed your hands were empty. You’d finished a handful of Wanda and Natasha’s chosen drinks, taking it upon yourself to try at least one of every flavor they had laying around the backyard. The flush on your cheeks was near permanent at this point, and though the heat in your ears would be gone by morning and replaced with a headache only Advil and sleep could soothe, the kiss on your cheeks would last days before it settled into darkened skin. 
As promised, Yelena had kept you pinned to the edge of the pool when the sun was still at its highest peak in the sky, showing you pictures and videos of the two dogs she took great pride in caring for. Kate had watched for a while, draped across her girlfriend's shoulder as the three of you laughed at a particular video of Fanny and Lucky dressed up in bowties zooming around their daylight drenched kitchen, but she had excused herself to the bathroom before the end was in sight. Maria Hill had been your savior, though you were content with Yelena’s easy presence not to mind your trapped position much while it had lasted. The early hours of the afternoon had been filled with conversation and the act of acquainting, but the later hours had told a different story; a wild one. It was the story of how you had come to find this state of mind, far past the point of being tipsy and well on your way to true drunkness. 
You hummed when Wanda laid her palm flat over your belly, keeping you close and safe in her lap. The soft pad of her thumb tickled your belly button as she adjusted slowly, sinking further down into the lounge chair she sprawled across. The sloppy smile on your face was the truest indication of your contentment, and Wanda, though she wondered who had been the one to feed you so much alcohol without her realizing, returned the grin. 
Natasha and Yelena were noticeably missing from the circle, but the silhouettes of their wild hair and toned shoulders were figures or darkness in the kitchen that promised a quick return. Natasha, though only an inch or so taller than her sister, wore her curls in a messy bun that slipped lower and lower down her head as the hours carried on. She was easiest to spot from a distance, the shadow of her presence known perfectly to you. Wanda didn’t pay you much attention other than the firm hand on your belly, but you were content to just be with her as she laughed and caught up with the blonde woman sat beside her; Carol Danvers. 
“They put up a new plaque for Pietro today.” Carol laughed at the inkling of information she had forgotten to share earlier in the afternoon, and Wanda craned her head in hopeful willingness that Carol would share more. “He would’ve loved it. He’s the only bastard on the squad that was dumb enough to have a catch phrase.” 
As if that mentioned catch phrase had been sitting on the lips of every person gathered around the fire, it fell from soft tongues without a moment of hesitation. Messy, not at all in tune, but seemingly perfect to Wanda who smiled when horrible Sokovian accents caught up to her ears and the words her brother had made his slogan lived on when even he didn’t, “You didn’t see that coming.” 
Memorial day has never held much significance to you. It had been just another holiday that sat on the start of summer, sometimes warm enough for gatherings like these, and sometimes not. Until you realized that the American flag folded in militant perfection in the master bedroom was a symbol of remembrance, you hadn’t thought it held much significance to the CEO’s either. Even though you hadn’t known Pietro, his life ending years before your path had crossed with the Maximoff’s, you smiled. His name had lingered in conversations throughout the day, and you didn’t question how loved he still was after years of absence. 
Wanda’s lips were heavy on the crown of your head when she leaned down to kiss you. You leaned into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest second before they opened and found Natasha admiring the sight of you. Two beers retrieved from the cooler near the pool sat in her hands, one cracked open and extended in your direction. 
“She doesn’t need anymore.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but didn’t stop you from grabbing the long necked bottle Natasha offered and adjusting yourself in her lap so that you could sip on it easily, having already spilled one drink down the front of you. With your back against her chest, and your legs situated between hers, you had to crane your neck to catch even the slightest glimpse of her face, but her arms around your torso were the physical assurance of her presence. She rubbed at the skin of your belly that had grown pink and warm beneath the sun, not yet tan, but it would come soon. The hickey on your chest had long since been forgotten, though Yelena had posed many questions of its origin before Kate slapped her shoulder and changed the topic. You’d been accepted without question, and you found that while some of their friends were painfully intimidating, Maria and Carol, they were truly sweethearts who had the same tendencies of protection as your dominants. 
When your beer had grown warm, and your cheeks had grown flusher, having been in no hurry to finish it off and replenish it like Yelena was doing, you passed the near empty bottle off to Natasha who had taken it not without an exasperated roll of her eyes and a mumbled sentence along the lines of being nothing but your servant. You had giggled, shrugged your shoulders, and curled further into Wanda who didn’t seem to even flinch at your elbow digging into her ribs. 
Despite your determination to remain awake, sleep won over you just as quickly as drunkenness had. Wanda merely rubbed your back in encouragement, being the single factor that had forced you into soft unconsciousness when conversations still buzzed around you. With your eyes closed and your breathing even, no chance of being woken even by the harshest storm, conversation had naturally flowed away from Pietro and onto you, but both Wanda and Natasha welcomed the new topic if it meant having the welcomed opportunity to boast about just how truly sweet you are. 
“I see you played the long game, Maximoff.” Maria winked at the Sokovian, her icy blue eyes admiring your innocent form as you attempted to wiggle closer to the auburn haired women who held you tightly. If you could find a way to burrow yourself beneath her skin, she knew that you would’ve done so already. 
“Patience rewards those who have it.” Wanda merely smirked in response, running her pruney fingers from hours of holding sweating cans and bottles through your chlorine stiff hair. “She just needed a little encouragement.” 
“She wasn’t the only one.” Natasha rolled her eyes, sipping slowly on her beer that despite the warmth, still brought a piece of home over her longing heart. Russians may drink vodka, but Melina Vostokoff had always preferred a beer. 
Wanda shrugged, knowing that despite her persistently cold demeanor, she had never truly doubted how her heart yearned for you. “It’s not my fault you brought home a brat.” 
“If I remember correctly, you said the same thing when you met Natasha.” Carol smirked over the lip of her can, her eyes burning holes into the side of Natasha’s face, though the Russian pointedly ignored her stare. 
“Watch it, Danvers.” She warned, but surrendered to the teasing she had missed in recent months. Life was busy, but they’d always find a reason to come back together.
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nexysworld · 8 months
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Summary: Leon Kennedy is your new neighbor, and seemingly a great guy; handsome, funny, sweet, mysterious. It doesn't take long until you're falling for him hard and fast. But things take a turn after the death of someone close to you. Strange events keep happening around you, leaving you in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you rely heavily on Leon. He plays his part well, always being there for you, always being your safe space. There's only one problem, unbeknownst to you, his obsession towards you is growing and as it does, so too does the measures he'll take to watch over you, and more importantly make you his.
Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader
Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.
Read on AO3 || Ask Box Open || Masterlist
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You had lived in this apartment since the day you moved out of your parent’s house. It was small, only a single bedroom located in a rougher part of the city. While the appliances hadn’t been updated since the 90’s and the place looked like a disaster, you did your best to make the beat down apartment your own. A few fresh coats of paint on the yellowed walls and some throw rugs to cover the stained and now flattened shag rug and boom — not too shabby. 
It was home. 
Living in such a rundown building meant that the turnover rate for neighbors was quite high, people always coming and going. None really caught your attention except for the few long-term tenants that seemed to have no intention of leaving. So of course when a new person moved in on the other side of Mrs. Wilson, the sweet elderly woman who shared the apartment next door, you paid no mind. 
In fact, it wasn’t until several weeks later that you had even seen who the new neighbor was. Returning from work, you watched Tina, the girl from 202 painfully trying to hit on – what you could only describe as – an absolute tank of a man. 
Sandy blonde hair was slicked back out of his face revealing a handsome mesh of chiseled and soft features. He had clearly been accosted on his way back from exercising, clad in black basketball shorts and a sweat-soaked gray t-shirt, sleeves straining against his massive biceps. His earbuds were tossed over his shoulder as he talked to the girl, music still playing quietly through them. Turning to the wall of shared mailboxes, you tried your best to not stare or eavesdrop, but damn was it hard. As you opened the small metal door, you couldn’t keep your eyes from darting back to him. 
‘I thought guys like him only existed in magazines.’ You thought to yourself, collecting the mail – even taking an extra moment to slowly sort through it where you were, buying more time to be nosy. It was obvious he was not into her at all. 
“Soooo Leon..” Tina said awkwardly, twirling her finger through her choppy red hair, the metal bracelets on her wrist clanging together with each movement, bubble gum gnashing between her pearly whites.  “You listen to music while you work out?” “Uhh…yeah, sometimes.” He said almost flatly, scratching a spot on his slightly cleft chin. 
“Oh that’s cool. What uh, what do you usually listen to?” She bit her red coated lip, and batted her lashes, it didn’t seem to garner any additional interest from the man.  
“Rock music, I guess.” Another flat response, his jaw clenching ever so slightly before he resumed his neutral look. 
“I like rock music. Uh…” You watched as she fumbled to try to come up with anything else to add, tapping her heeled boot against the floor. 
“Look, it was real nice talking to you, but I have to go.” He said flashing a small smile before popping his earbuds back in and running up the stairs, not giving the girl a chance to respond.
‘Ouch, that was awkward. But damn even his voice is attractive.’ Stopping yourself from giggling, you collected the few pieces of non junk mail and made your way back to your apartment. There was the smallest amount of guilt bouncing at the back of your mind, knowing you shouldn’t be ogling men like that while having a boyfriend. ‘It’s not like I did anything. I didn’t even speak to the guy.’ 
About a week after that, you had your first real run-in with Leon. Heading out to work you saw Mrs. Wilson’s door ajar — definitely unusual as she didn’t tend to get many visitors besides yourself. Concerned for her, you poked your head through the opening. The familiar smell of mint and warm bread hit your senses, but you didn’t hear a thing. 
Sliding inside you quietly poked around as you made your way to the back of the apartment, keeping an eye out in case anything nefarious was afoot. Much to your relief, the hall opened up into the living room at the back where you saw Mrs. Wilson. Next to her was another figure you hadn’t expected. 
Leon was standing with one arm above his head, unscrewing the blackened lightbulb from the socket before replacing it with the fresh one he had in his other hand. Workout attire replaced with a pair of worn blue jeans and a long sleeve black shirt. “Oh thank you.” Mrs. Wilson said with her signature wrinkly smile. “You’re so kind to do this for me. I hate having to bug the sweet girl next door all the time, but you know the lights in this place tend to blow every time there’s a storm and I can’t get up on the chairs like I used to.” “No worries ma’am.” He said with a far brighter smile than he’d worn during his interaction with Tina. His hair was no longer slicked back either, instead it framed his face, soft and fluffy, accentuating his cheekbones. You couldn’t help but notice the tiny gap his shirt left while his arm was raised, just the smallest peek of a dusty blonde happy trail and the faintest hint of hard muscle. “Looks like you have a visitor.” 
Leon turned his attention to you with a small nod before he flipped the switch on the wall to test the new light. It lit up, further illuminating the area with a soft yellow glow. “S-sorry.” You snapped out of it, raising your eyes to meet his. “I saw the door was open and I just wanted to make sure Grams was okay.”
“You’re always such a Darling.” The elderly woman said with a toothless grin aimed in your direction. There was a homeliness about the old woman that made you feel warm.  “Mr. Kennedy here is such a sweet boy. Have you met him yet? He moved in next door a while ago and offered to help me with a few things.” “I told you Mrs. Wilson, call me Leon.” He said as he tossed the broken lightbulb into the small pink trash can by the kitchen counter. “And I don’t believe we have met. Nice to meet you. The name’s Leon, well I guess you already knew that. Leon Kennedy.” He added his last name, reaching out a hand to you. 
“Nice to meet you too Leon. I’m glad to hear Grams has someone else to help take care of her. I live next door, in 306.” You couldn’t lie, your heart melted a little. ‘Handsome and kind? This guy must be a unicorn.’ You whisked the thought away again, the picture of your own boyfriend flashing behind your eyes again. 
The vintage clock hung against the floral wallpaper cuckoo’d and chimed, indicating the top of the hour. “Oh shit—“
“Language!” Mrs. Wilson chimed. “You know it’s unbecoming of a lady to—“
“I meant, shoot. Sorry Grams. I’m just running late for work.” You wrapped an arm around her in a quick side hug. “Sorry to cut this short, but I have to run.” Waving to Leon, you made a beeline for the door. 
“Well Ms. 306, I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” He shouted after you. 
“You too Mr. 302!” 
Ever since, Leon became a regular in your routine. Short conversations in the hallway that always left you with butterflies swirling in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help the way your muscles in your face stretched into a permanent grin that you couldn’t stave off for the life in you. How a man managed to be so stoic and corny at the same time you’d never know. 
You ran errands for Mrs. Wilson together too, taking his Jeep out into the city. He would leave the top down and take the long way. Your hair would whip your face as you both sang along — poorly — to some dad rock mixtape Leon had. It seemed so fitting that he’d have an out of date tape player in his car, something so indescribably Leon. 
He really seemed like a great guy and you were enamored to say the least — though you tried desperately not to be. ‘It’s just a harmless crush.’ You told yourself. ‘He’s not into you anyway. Leon’s just a nice guy, worlds out of your league.’ 
~~~~~
Cool air bit at your cheeks and nose while you leaned against the brick wall of the building. Derek was abysmally late, you had the feeling he was upset at you for some reason but unable to fathom why. Hoping that it wasn’t the reason for his current absence, you checked your phone again.
Still nothing. A sigh escaped your lips as you readjusted your jacket.
“Everything alright?” The voice was immediately recognizable and your face lit up into a smile before you even looked over at him. 
“Hey Leon. Yeah everything’s fine, I’m just waiting on Derek.” You couldn’t be certain but you swore there was the slightest change in his expression, facial muscles contracting tightly before settling back into the lax warm look you were used to. “Oh. You know it’s not nice to keep a lady waiting.” Leaning against the wall next to you, he tilted his back to look up at the sky. He was wearing his brown bomber jacket that you found so attractive on him. A small part of you wondered how it would feel to wear it yourself, if it would smell like him. The other part of you was curious how a guy could afford such a nice brand name jacket, but lived in a place like this. 
“Yeah well… I think he’s mad at me actually.” You moved some dirt back and forth with your foot. “Why’s that?” A thick blonde brow was raised with interest as he tilted his head to look down at you. The dull light of the street lamp lit up half his face, casting hard shadows on the other, it accentuated each of his features in a way that made you never want to stop looking. 
“Wish I knew.” A dry laugh escaped your lips. As the wind picked up again, dust kicked up from the ground, blowing towards you along with some plant debris. You covered your face with the oversized jacket sleeve for a moment to protect your face. 
You heard Leon chuckle. “Looks like you picked up a straggler.” He brought his hand up to your head, just above your ear and gently removed a small weed stem that had made its home in your hair. 
“Thank you, I would’ve looked silly walking around like that.” 
He lingered close to you for a moment, flicking the stem away before he brought his hand back to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Mhm, can’t have that.” 
The moment felt intimate, and your heart beat out of time for a moment. You wanted to return the gesture, to say something, to do anything, but your brain was frazzled for a moment by the electric feel of his touch. 
“Ahem.” Your head snapped in the other direction to see your boyfriend standing there leaning against his car, not having heard him drive by or even exit the vehicle. 
“Have a good night Leon.” Quickly, you jerked away from his touch and ran over to your boyfriend, who had already started walking around to get back in the driver’s side of his car. Slipping into the passenger seat, you tried to lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek, but he turned his head enough to dodge it. Shrinking back, you buckled up and rested your head against the window, looking out as the city blurred past. ‘Guess he is mad at me.’
You attempted to fumble through some radio stations, but Derek made it clear he didn’t appreciate it, reaching over and turning it off entirely after the third one. The forty minute ride felt like hours as the rest passed by in total silence. 
His mood didn’t seem to improve at the movie theater either. Each little gesture of affection you attempted was immediately spurned. Every part of him radiated with negativity — and the thought of dinner afterwards made your stomach churn. A movie was a distraction and there was no requirement to talk, but sitting across from someone dead silent, that would be harder to deal with. The uncomfortableness of the situation caused your focus to drift again, only tuning in when a jumpscare appeared – unfortunately he left you to reel in your chair alone during those parts too. The movie ended, indicated by the overhead lights that suddenly appeared and the credits rolling on the screen.  Derek was halfway out the door before you even finished grabbing your bag. 
You had to run after him across the tacky carpeted floor of the theater and out intl the parking lot. “Why are you acting like this?” You pleaded, grabbing his hand before he could reach the car. 
“Acting like what?” He asked coldly. 
“Like this.” You gestured broadly towards him. “You’ve been cold to me the whole evening. Well actually more than just this evening.” 
“Really? I honestly didn’t think you’d notice.”  
“What does that even mean?” 
“You know exactly what it means!” He finally shouted. He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep breath trying to calm himself. Of course the two of you had fought before, but he’d never acted like this. It didn’t help that you had no idea what he was even talking about. “You’ve been pulling away from me for weeks now. You’ve been distant, canceling plans to ‘run errands’. When we are together all you ever do is talk about that stupid neighbor of yours — and then tonight, I catch him nearly eye fucking you right out in the open. You certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by it.” 
“Derek….that’s not true. I — Leon’s just a friend, my neighbor I swear.”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“What?”
“Are. You. Sleeping. With. Him?” He brought his eyes back up to meet yours, the look of hurt on his face made your stomach twist and heart ache. 
“No! What? No, I wouldn't do that to you.” You assured, stepping towards him. “Come on, please don’t be like this. I’m sorry if it seems that way, I don’t realize I’m talking about him so much. I’d never —“
“Save it.” He said, pushing you away from him again. “I don’t believe you. I don’t even know why I came out here tonight.” 
“Der—“
“I said save it!” He snapped. 
“This isn’t fair!” You shouted in return. “Why drag me out here on this whole date if you were this upset? You could’ve brought it up this whole time”
“I did. I told you over a week ago I was sick of hearing about him. I asked you to stop seeing so much of him, you told me no.”
“Leon’s a friend, I’m not going to ruin my friendship with him because you’re being psycho and jealous.”
“I’m a psycho because I don’t like that my own girlfriend spends all her time with some guy that looks like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad? How about the fact you don’t even seem to care that I’m hurt I thought I’d have been more important — you know what? Forget this. Forget it.” He turned to walk around to the driver’s side of the car. “I’m over this. You want him? Have him. I’m not chasing you. I thought you were my future wife, I thought we’d have the picket fence, kids, all of it. But now I get how you feel about everything.”
He slammed the car door shut, started the engine, and began backing out of the spot. You banged on the window to get his attention. “What are you doing? You’re seriously just going to leave me here?”
“Call your boyfriend to come get you.” He sneered through the window before blasting off and out of the parking lot.
You were stunned, unable to move as you watched the car disappear. ‘He can’t be serious right now? He’ll be back right?’ Pulling your phone out of your pocket you checked the time, 10pm. Wanting to hide your shame from the few people staring at you, and deciding he just needed a little while to cool down, you sat on the sidewalk in front of the theater, hidden by a bush that extended out. 
15 minutes passed. Nothing. 
Dialing the familiar number it rang a few times before going to voicemail. You tried again, this time it went straight to voicemail. 
10 more minutes passed and you tried to text him.
20 more minutes, still no response or call back. 
The wind was picking up again, making it chilly even under your jacket, which you’d brought down over your knees to try and keep in more warmth. This part of the city you weren’t familiar with, and weren’t sure it was worth the risk of trying to walk home. Given the situation, calling Leon was the last thing you wanted to do, especially since he was probably asleep by now — not that it was his job to really come save you anyway. 
Opening the Uber app on your phone, you put in the respective addresses. “$30? Not including a tip? Fuck.” You bit your lip in frustration. Technically you had enough, but it was the last of what was left in your account after bills.
Tapping your fingers along the cement, you shivered as a particular gust of wind leaked air into your jacket from the opening underneath. ‘Even if I did call Leon and he wasn’t mad I woke him up, that’s still a drive away. An Uber would be faster…but I do need groceries to sustain life.’
“This sucks.” You said out loud to yourself, burying your face into your knees, you had no clue what you were going to do and were running out of time to decide. By this time, the parking lot had emptied entirely, theater closing for the night. ‘Fuck it. I’ll just call and if he doesn’t answer I’ll order the stupid Uber.’ 
Opening his contact, the picture of him you’d taken at the park came up. Blonde hair pushed back and messy, one sea blue eye opened staring at your phone’s camera while the other was closed in a wink. You’d even convinced him to throw up a peace sign – it was so silly and so very Leon. Sighing, you began the call, letting the phone ring.
As it rang over and over again, you could swear you heard a familiar tune in the distance. It was very quiet, like someone was playing the radio several blocks over, but it tickled your ears all the same. You ended the call the moment it went to his voicemail, as you did you swore the song had ended too. ‘Weird, I must be hallucinating. Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top, abandoned and crazy.’ You let out a dry laugh at the thought. 
Luckily after a moment, the phone buzzed in your hand, heart fluttering a little when you saw his name pop up on your screen. “Hey.” You said softly. 
“Hey there.” He replied, his voice sounding groggy. 
“Sorry to uhm….sorry if I woke you up.”
“S’not a problem. Everything ok?” 
“Well I uh….” 
“What’s wrong?” His voice sounding more alert now, you heard some shifting on the other end of the line. 
“Derek kind of ditched me at the theater. I’m a little stranded —“
“Need me to come get you?” 
“If you don’t mind. But if you’re asleep —“
“No, it's fine. I’d rather make sure you’re okay anyway. Where are you at?”
“The theater up by main, across from the big shopping center.”
“I’ll be there in 15, ok?”
“15, are you sure?” 
“Why wouldn’t I be? This a test?” There was a small chortle from his end. “Well it’s just that the apartment is nearly 40 minutes away? I hope you’re not planning on driving like a maniac.” There was a long moment of silence on the other end, so long it began to make you feel anxious. “Hey Leon, you still there?” 
It was still another few seconds before his voice could be heard again. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry about that. I actually crashed at a friend's house after you left, so I’m nearby.”
“Oh. Okay.” 
The wait for him to show up felt like an eternity, you watched each and every minute tick by on your phone, both giddy and nervous with anticipation. When his Jeep came to a stop in front of you, you bolted up with a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He replied with the same grin he always greeted you with. His hair was a little messy and he looked tired, making the guilt bubble up in your stomach more. “So….you gonna get in or?” 
“Oh yeah.” Letting out a nervous laugh, you ran around to the passenger seat before hopping in. He had the heater on, not that it was doing much with the open top, but you appreciated every time the warmth hit your legs. 
“So what exactly happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” He leaned back more comfortably in his seat, driving with one hand as the other rested on the door.
“We just got into a fight….” You fidgeted with your phone as you gave him a glance in return. “He seems to think I’ve been cheating on him…or at least that I like someone else. I tried to tell him it wasn’t true, but you know…
“So he abandoned you? Just like that?” He asked bewildered. 
“Yeah I guess he did…” 
“That’s pretty shitty of him. I mean what if something happened to you?”
“Yeah it was… I don’t know…” You trailed off, not wanting to talk about it further, just dredging up those bad feelings. Instead, you opted to change the subject entirely. “Hey you know what’s weird?”
“No, what?”
“That one Nickelback song you like so much…you play it almost every time we’re in the Jeep together.”
“Oh, Far Away? Sure, what about it?”
“Well…as I was calling you, I swore I heard it. Was so weird, like a scene from a movie or something — maybe it was a sign that you’d come get me. Or I had a psychotic break and imagined the whole thing. Could be either one.”
“Yeah?” He asked with a chuckle. “I don’t know about the universe, but I am always here if you need me – even if you’ve lost your mind.” He tilted his head and gave a nonchalant shrug.
“Thanks Lee…” The rest of the ride home went smoothly — things falling back into place like they always did. Blasting music obnoxiously loud for the hour, singing along. He even stopped to get you milkshakes on the way back, despite your insistence that you were fine. In his defense, the logic of ‘no one can be upset with a milkshake’ made a lot of sense. 
As the vehicle rolled in front of the building, he leaned over, swiping his thumb across the side of your mouth. “Had something there.” His tongue darted out, lapping the sticky white substance off of the digit.
“Oh.” The simple touch had that electric feeling sparking throughout your veins again. “Thank you….and thanks again for the ride.”
“No problem.” 
Not knowing what else to say, you nodded and scurried from the vehicle back inside the building. He didn’t follow immediately behind you, having to properly park, which left you relieved. 
The entire evening was a whirlwind of emotions and that last little interaction had your entire brain scrambling inside your skull. All you wanted was for the night to be over with, forgotten as you drifted to unconsciousness. 
You took a quick shower before changing into your pajamas and all but flopping into the comfortable fortress of your bed. 
Curling up into the soft bedding, you expected sleep to come over you quickly — but you were wrong. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could picture was that pink tongue darting out to lap up the milkshake from his thumb. His smile, his eyes on you. It made you shudder and clamp your legs together, heat rushing between them. You squirmed around tossing and turning, trying to get your mind to relax and to stave off the arousal that was hindering your sleep.
Nothing you did was working, finally deciding to just give in, sinking your hand down between your legs. ‘Just so I can sleep…’ 
Hand tracing gently along your slit through your panties, you spread your legs farther to give yourself more access. Closing your eyes you could vividly see his face between your legs, tongue out lapping at your panties the way he’d done to the ice cream. 
A soft moan escaped your lips as you applied more pressure, rubbing the slick soaked fabric against your aching bud of pleasure. “Mmm Leon…” The comforter was slowly becoming suffocating, too hot. You tossed it off of yourself to the other side of the mattress, letting yourself feel the cool air as it rushed against your skin – nipples sensitive to the temperature change. 
You brought your left hand up under the silken sleep shirt, circling one hard bud with a finger before pinching it lightly. The fingers of your right hand teasingly walked themselves up to the hem of the fabric, dipping inside the band to properly travel down. Air escaped your mouth once direct contact was made to your throbbing clit. “Leon…so good…” 
In your little vision the man had moved to hook your legs over his shoulders to gain a better angle - the real you bucking your hips up against your fingers, desperate to add to the vision. “So good to me Lee….always so good to me….fuck…” 
Your fingers slid up and down against yourself, left hand abandoning your breast to travel it’s way downward as well, two fingers slipping themselves within your soaking hole – desperately needing to clench around more than the nothingness you were left with. “So close….gonna…” The words caught in your throat as the pressure finally released itself, tingling warmth spreading from your core throughout your body. It was quick and rough, far from the best you’d ever had but it was exactly what you needed. 
The illusion finally cracked and you were left with sore arms, staring up at the ceiling – momentarily sated and relieved, again hoping sleep would take you quickly. 
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A/N: If this looks familiar, it's a total rewrite/reboot of my yandere!leon series. This original series was inspired by @explorevenus' Something Permanent series. Other inspirations include @gigabyte-flare, @lipglossanon, and @girldungeon's works. Special shoutout to @elfven-blog and her superior pinterest skills for the aesthetic pics used in the banner.
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bettyfrommars · 9 months
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Handcuffs & Crab Rangoon
(also known as How I Met Your Mother)
playgirl!Eddie x Reader
By Request! From this ask, directly inspired by this delicious artwork by @sporelium (run don't walk if you haven't seen it yet) but also inspired by the 1995 Peter Steele Playgirl cover. Peter notoriously kept his joystick hard for most of the 6-7 hour shoot because he thought readers of the magazine would enjoy it more than if it were flaccid (I'm fine either way, but damn, thanks baby). wc: 4.3k
18+Only, mature content, smut, rockstar!Eddie, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, reader wears overalls, pet names, fingering, mention of Eddie's scars, accidental edging, sex on the job, sneaky sex, she/her is used once, no y/n, reader is a tough cookie, but Eddie is magic. It is the mid-90's.
Playgirl!eddie afterthoughts
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You’d been helping out a photographer for risqué magazine shoots as an assistant for almost 5 months now.  It was the fourth job you had just to keep yourself afloat while trying to live an independent life in LA. To make it in show business you had to be extremely talented, drop dead gorgeous, backed by generational wealth, or just plain lucky, and you were none of those.  So, you broke your back to make ends meet while taking night classes and working on the script you were writing with two other friends.
The studio loft on the second floor was an expansive space with windows overlooking the industrial district all along the wall.  Sasha, the photographer, stood adjusting her camera on the tripod, while the makeup artist touched up the rockstar you were working with that day, and Need You Tonight by INXS played low from the radio on a nearby shelf.  
You saw him from the back first; long, dark wavy hair hanging down over the white robe he wore to protect his modesty for the time being.  You noticed that his hands were strong and calloused as they hung at his sides.  June, the makeup artist, was on a step stool to blot his nose with powder and fix the crown of his hair.  
June saw you coming and introduced you, causing Eddie to turn on his heel, tightening the sash on his robe as he did.
You sucked in your bottom lip to hold back a whimper at the zing you felt when his warm hazelnut eyes met yours.  His full, soft lips parted in greeting, a long strand from his bangs bouncing on his eyelash, his gaze rolling over you from head to foot indulgently.
Of course, you’d heard of rock star Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin. At one of your other jobs, a girl you worked with had his magazine cutouts taped to the inside of her locker.  Last year, he was Cher’s date to the Grammys.  He was getting ready to go on tour, and procuring tickets was all any of your friends could talk about.
But, goddamn, he was much better looking in person than any tabloid or tv show could've ever prepared you for, and the chemistry vibrating in the space between the two of you was palpable.  
“Eddie…Munson, you say?” You squinted, as if you were trying to place him, like the name sounded familiar but you didn’t know why while June fixed the back of his hair. “Football player, right?”
The tip of his tongue sipped out to wet his lips, curling one side of his mouth up in a half grin.  “I love a girl who knows her sports.”
There were a few loaded seconds there when the two of you just sank into a sexually charged stare-down, both unwilling to budge.  
Sasha called your name, snapping you out of it.  She came over to let Eddie know what your role was, and encouraged him to let you know if there was anything you could do to help him relax.  She finished explaining a few things to him while you brought over a glass of lemon water.  
Sasha walked away and he took a sip, keeping his eyes on you over the glass, smirking.
“What?” you mirrored the smirk.  “This will be such an easy job for me because I know you rockstars don’t have any problem taking your cocks out and being admired in public.”
“Oh, you know me, huh?” He challenged.
You worked your jaw, pussy clenching, wondering what he looked like out of his robe.  “You’re all the same, aren’t you? Arrogant, over-sexed, and too pretty for your own good.”
“Well, you got me on the pretty part,” he winked.  “But nah, I’m not a rockstar.  I’m just a small-town freak who got lucky and, this has all been fucking overwhelming to tell you the truth.”  Eddie was tall, with broad shoulders, and your mouth dried up a little at the tattoos on his forearms that peeked out from under the sleeve of the robe.
You took the glass from him when he was finished.  “We have the small town thing in common, at least,” you said with an incline of your head.
It was time to get started, but even as Sasha motioned him over, he paused next to you, so close that the ends of his hair grazed your shoulder.  “So, if I can’t get relaxed on my own, then that means you have to help me?”  He whispered it, but forcefully, so you could feel his warm breath on the side of your head.  You could smell the mix of spearmint and tobacco.
Keeping your eyes straight ahead, you swallowed hard as the woodsy spice of his scent hit your nostrils.  “I’ll do my best for you, Mr. Munson,” and then you dared to glance up, your breath hitching as he unfastened his robe and lowered it from his shoulders right in front of you, only a few feet away.  
You tried not to show emotion because you knew he was watching, but you closed your mouth to keep a yearning mew from escaping.  There were tattoos scattered around his defined muscles, but there were also fascinating scars like floral blooms along his neck, chest, and stomach. Your eyes ached to travel down to the V-shape that cut into his hips and the treasure below, but you refused to give him the satisfaction.  Not yet anyway.
You were just about to tell him he could keep the robe on until he was comfortable, but he threw the article of clothing over for you to catch.  “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”
Half of the people Sasha photographed were too shy to take the robe off right away, and maybe Eddie would have hesitated in other circumstances, but you had a strange feeling he was doing this for you.  If Sasha wasn’t asking him to look at the camera, his eyes were always banking in your direction.  
“I think we should try the handcuffs,” Sasha said to the room, but mostly to you.  
You made your way over to where the props were, knowing that Eddie’s eyes were keeping pace, and playfully dangled the silver cuffs from your thumb and forefinger as you retrurned, wiggling your eyebrows; a gesture he was happy to return. 
“Front or behind?” You asked Sasha.
“Behind for now,” she answered.  “You okay with that Mr. Munson?”
“My god,” he chuckled, putting his hands behind his back for you to have easy access to the tender skin of his wrists.  “Call me anything but Mr. Munson.  Eddie is fine.”
You always tried to keep things very professional, but not only that—you’d been around so many naked bodies, they all started to look the same to you.  This was your job, and mostly it never even occurred to you to see the models in a lustful way..  You never let your eyes hover too long on the private parts of your clients; maybe just a glance and that was it.  But the job of fastening Eddie’s handcuffs had you taking in the firm structure of his ass like it was a visual last meal.  
You stroked your finger a few times in his palm.  “Is that too tight?” 
The combination of your touch and the way you whispered gave him chills in the best way possible and his fingers flexed, as if trying to reach out for you.  “I hope you have a key for these things,” he mumbled.
“I do,” you assured him.  “But I’m about to swallow it.”
“Hey,” he hushed over his shoulder before you could walk away.  “Should my dick be hard for this?”
You wanted to kiss his arm, you wanted to bite it.  Instead, you put your hands together and intertwined your fingers.  “Do you want it to be?”
Eddie lowered his chin, voice barely audible.  “Are you offering to help, sweetheart?
Sasha took a few more photos as he was, standing to the side, eyes flicking to where you stood behind Sasha’s shoulder.  When it was time for you to take the handcuffs off, Eddie stretched his hands, turning to face front. “No chick wants to look at a flaccid dick when they buy magazines like this,” he announced.  “Give me a second to…get ready? If you know what I mean?”
While Sasha and June went out for a smoke break, Eddie put his robe on, and headed for his private dressing room, but he paused in the door and turned to find you. His eyebrows popped up a few times,  motioned with his hand down low for you to follow him in.  You knew  you could lose your job for fornicating with Eddie during a photo shoot, but at that moment, you couldn’t have cared less.
Once you were in, Eddie closed the door and leaned back against it, his robe falling open.  He clutched a fist into the front of your overalls, pulling you closer.  Your fingertips feathered down the ridges of his scars, thumb caressing over his missing nipple, and he jutted his head forward to meet your mouth, but you were too fast, dropping to your knees to taste his cock, taking your job and his request a bit too seriously.  
“Hey wait,” he sank his hand around your throat, guiding you back up to full height.  “Kiss me first,” he brushed his lips across yours.  “And then you can kill me.”
While the tiny person in charge of your brain ran around inside your skull screaming, your  lips met his, tips of tongues introducing each other first, and then echoed moans, opening wide to take each other deeper.
“I know what will get me hard,” he told you in a breathy rush.  “Take these off,” he motioned to the overalls you were wearing.  “And sit on the counter.”
He walked forward so that you would back up, his hands supporting your waist.
You looked back at the counter top. “But we don’t have much time to—” 
“I don’t need much time,” he said, swatting a stool out of his way so it crashed to the ground.  “I want you in my mouth.”
You shivered and obeyed, unhooking your overalls, letting them fall to the floor.  You were in nothing but a tank top now, ass on the cool edge of the Formica, and he pulled your underwear down your legs, salivating and biting his lip as he did so. 
 “Fuuuuck, you are so wet,” He pushed your knees wider with his strong arms and sank his tongue into your glistening folds, flicking the nub a few times.  “Did you get this wet just for me? Hmmm?”
“Yes Eddie,” you whimpered, bracing yourself on the beige counter next to the vanity, watching him drag his chin all the way up your slit, and then pull and twist his tongue down, darting it into your hole.  His eyes met yours again, his mouth latching onto your sweet spot and sucking there.  You wrapped your legs over his shoulders and sunk your heels into his back.
His fingers dug into the meat at your hips, his mouth diving deeper, sucking in while his tongue flicked. He reached a hand down between his legs and started stroking himself, getting more and more turned at the way you were gasping and twitching.
You grabbed the top of his head.  “Fuckkk Eddie fuck just like that.”
His eyes were closed now while he devoured you, but the look on his face spoke of how seriously he took the task, rolling his tongue and working you in a way that made your eyelids flutter and a choke catch in your throat.
But then there came a knock at the door.  
It was Sasha, and thank god she didn’t try the doorknob because you hadn’t locked it in your frenzy to get on Eddie’s joystick.  . 
“Coming!” You shouted nervously, dropping to your feet, stepping into your underwear and then your overalls.  
Eddie sucked in his bottom lip, licking what was left of you from his mouth.  He caught your elbow as you were fastening the second clip.  “Can we finish this later?”
The way he asked it was almost shy, as if his face hadn’t just been between your thighs.  Meanwhile, your engorged pussy was soaking your underwear, begging to be finished.  You saw that his chin was still wet from your arousal and whisked some of it away with your thumb.
He bent to let his lips graze at your ear as he closed his robe. “I like the way you taste.”
Back out on the floor, you let Sasha know that Eddie was talking your ear off about something, but that he would be out any second.  Sasha and June exchanged a look, mostly in regards to the way the straps of your overalls were all twisted and buttoned wrong, but neither one of them addressed it.
When Eddie came out and took his robe off again, he was hard, rolling his big hand around the head a few more times as he got on the prop bed that was there for the next set.  There was a model named Cindy in lingerie there to be in the shots with him, and you felt a jealousy rise in you that didn’t make any sense.  It rose so hot in your gut while their mouths hovered inches apart, pretending they were about to kiss, that you had to look away.  Every so often, he’d glance over at you while he had his cock in his hand, determined to keep the beast hard, and you wondered if he was thinking about having his tongue inside of you.
Because, you were definitely thinking about it.  You took a little private time around the corner just to touch yourself through your denim, working your fingers at your core, wondering if you should just finish yourself off and be done with it just as Sasha finally called for another smoke break.
You tried not to be too obvious, casually strolling back to Eddie’s dressing room, making sure the model Cindy was comfortable and fetching her the sparkling water she asked for while Love Bites by Judas Priest played on the radio.
Eddie was already in there waiting, yanking you inside by the wrist so he could lock the door, planting hot, hungry kisses down along your neck. 
You dropped your overalls like they were on fire, caressing his hard length in a way that made him moan. “I need you so fucking bad,” you breathed, pulling your tank top up and over your head so that you could be flush with his skin, to feel the ridges of his scars.  “That last set was almost two hours,” you were still talking as he backed you further into the room.  “How is your cock still hard?”
His fingers slipped down through your folds and he hissed at the way you were dripping.  “Just the thought of this, sweetheart.”
There was a floral couch against the wall and when your calves met with it, you plopped down into the cushion and Eddie followed, knees to the wood floor, wrapping his arm around your thighs to take your sweet bud into his mouth again, teasing it with his nose first.
“Fuck fuck Eddie, I’m already so close,” you took a fistful of his beautiful hair, careful not to mess it up too bad and bucked against his mouth.  “You’re so good, I love it when your tongue fucks me.”
Your hole was clenching around nothing, needing more, and that was when two of his fingers slid in, the ones with the chunky metal rings, they stretched you out suddenly, making you curse with pleasure.  Eddie zig-zagged his tongue rapid fire over  your clit, groaning at the way your hole gripped his fingers.  His cock was leaking pre-cum and he thrust his hips into the couch as he felt your walls begin to ripple.
“Fuck Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum…so hard….” the orgasm seemed to snap your body in two, pulsing a waves of pleasure up your spine, making your mouth freeze open on a sharp inhale.  And then you were babbling, “cummincumming so hard, Eddie!”
“Turn over,” he demanded in a deep voice once you were able to catch your breath.  “I need to clean you up.”.
And so you got on your knees facing the wall and held onto the back of the couch, trembling at the way he spread your cheeks and lapped you up all along your drenched slit.
“We’re ready if you are!” Sasha called from out in the studio making you spin around.
“Oh shit,” you breathed, looking down at how swollen and ready his cock was.  “I can’t leave you like this.”
“I can wait, sweetheart,” he mumbled, standing to pull his robe back on and offer you his hand, tossing his hair back over his shoulder.
By the time the photo shoot was over, Eddie would’ve been edging his release for over 4 hours, and he didn’t seem phased at all about it.
It was time for the handcuffs again.  Eddie wanted a cigarette, and Sasha encouraged him to have it in a seat by the window and she’d get a few shots of him there.  He held his wrists close together in front of him while you secured the cool metal, his chocolate orbs fixed on your face.  He liked how your fingers quivered as you cuffed him, and his erection had finally softened enough to not be obnoxious, but it was still making your mouth dry up with desire.
He wanted to light the cigarette himself, so you passed him the lighter.  He spread his legs, hitching one heel up on the leg of the chair, exposing the patch of hair at the base of his cock and around his balls 
“That’s perfect,” Sasha told him, finger tapping on the shutter button, producing a blast of fast clicks..  
You glanced up at the clock, knowing your time with Eddie would be over soon.  Cindy the model could’ve gone home, but she’d decided to stay and wait to watch the rest of Eddie’s shoot, her eyes sparkling with lust.  Maybe she would be the one to get Eddie off and not you.  She was physically more what you assumed his “type” would be since, in your mind, all rock stars were the same.
You didn’t have to wonder for long which woman he’d rather fuck, because he was eyeballing you from across the room as he put his robe on and said a few last words to Sasha.  The dressing room door was hidden around the corner and down the hall, but you decided not to follow him straight in like you had the last two times; your carnal needs were making you sloppy.  This time, you went out into the stairwell to the back entrance and knocked, hoping he would get the hint because it only opened from the inside.  Eddie pushed it open with a hard metal clank, and then your hands were in his hair, and wordlessly the two of you fell into each other.  He was doing the work of unfastening your overalls while you were coherent enough to ask about condoms and he presented a string of them out of the pocket of his robe.
“You came prepared,” you stumbled over your clothes, yanking your shirt off as you went.
“Nah,” Eddie cocked his head.  “I had my gofer bring me these.  The guy is quick.” 
“How do you want me?” You kissed down his chest, flicking his one salty nipple with your tongue, making him groan.
He ripped one of the condoms off the pack and tore it open with his teeth, and then spat the paper edge out.  “I need to be able to see your face,” he crashed his nose against yours diving in for another kiss.
“Sit,” you told him, urging him back into the wooden chair in the corner of the room.  It was right next to a full length mirror so he could watch you fuck him from the side if he wanted to. There were no arms on the chair, and he complied, licking his lips, eager for whatever you had in mind while he rolled the condom on.
You kicked  your leg over him like you were mounting your motorcycle and sat your hungry, soaking hole down on the tip of his cock.  Eddie took hold of your hips and guided you down, releasing one long moan as you went.  You whined, coming down flush with his lap, his cock stretching you out in a way no one ever had before, settling yourself first before you began to move.  You pushed up from the balls of your feet, riding him, and Eddie clamped a hand onto each of your ass cheeks, creating a rhythm, using his strong arms to help lift and lower you.
Your foreheads came together as you moved, hard nipples grazing his chest. You watched him grit his teeth and gasp.  “Damn, you’re so tight.  I’m close, I’m so fucking…close,” he bit out.  
Your clit rubbed against his patch of hair as you worked, and it wasn’t long before you began to hiccup with the contraction of your own release.  Never in your life had you cum this soon and this close together.  “You’re gonna make me cum again, oh my god.”
“Yeah?” He pulled his head back.  “Look at me.”
You met his eyes as you bounced, his hips snapping up to meet you every time you bottomed out.
“Yes,” you said breathlessly, finding the yearning in his stare too much to handle.  “Like, right now, right…fuck, Eddie I’m cumming!” Your head dropped to his shoulder while the tremors rolled through you, walls squeezing his cock, making his toes curl and his hips jerk erratically, the chair legs squeaking from his weight.
He held you flush to him, his release hot and plentiful; so much so, he might’ve worried about the integrity of the condom if he hadn’t been so pussy drunk on the way your hole was still clenching him like a fist.  You locked your chest to his and he caged you with his arms, locking you there.
Your knees threatened to turn to butter and betray you as you dismounted the ride of your life, both of you finding the footing to scramble around and retrieve your clothes. Eddie could stay in the dressing room as long as he wanted, but you? You were only a shell of the employee you normally were that day and you feared that Sasha was probably coming to look for you at that moment, ready to tell you to take a hike.
Eddie pulled his shirt down over his head, adjusting it over his jeans and flipped his hair from out of the collar. You snapped the first buckle on your overalls and gave him a tilt of your head. “Hey stranger, I almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on,” and then you fixed yourself in the mirror quickly before planting one more kiss on him on your way to bolt for the door.
“Hey, wait,” he called out, making you turn around. “Is that it? This is goodbye?”
Eddie Munson was a beautiful rockstar. Eddie Munson was in music videos on MTV. Eddie Munson could have any woman he wanted in the world, single or taken, and so no---you hadn’t expected more to come from this. You thought maybe he had a new fuck for every day of the week and you just happened to fall into his lap at the right time when he was bored and had some time to kill.
“Did you need anything else?” You asked it in your professional assistant voice, your work voice, and put your hands in your pockets to patiently wait.
He sat down on the couch to put his Converse on, absorbed in his task as he spoke to you. “My hotel is just up the street. Are you busy tonight? We could have dinner. Anything you want, my guys will get it for us.”
“I’m busy tonight,” you lied.
“What about tomorrow?” He pushed, tying the next shoe. “I wanna hear more about this small town you grew up in. I’ve really been missing home lately.”
You softened. “I refuse to believe you are anything but a spoiled city boy.”
He stood to his full height, stretching his chest, and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, giving you a shrug and a familiar smirk. “Just think about all the ways I could prove you wrong if you came to hang out with me tonight. I might even surprise you.”
You got all awkward for a bit, fighting with yourself over why you weren’t on your knees begging for this man. Regardless of your silence, he found an old receipt for a tin of mini mart pretzels in his pocket and wrote his room number and hotel on it.
Passing it to you pinched between his two fingers, he added without meeting your gaze, “I’d really like to see you again.”
But then Sasha was calling for you, needing help with equipment, and you were scurrying out of the room with your heart in your throat.
You paused with your hand on the doorknob. “Crab Rangoon?”
Eddie scoffed. “What did you call me?” He was jutting his arms up into the sleeves of his leather jacket when you favored him a glance over you shoulder.
You swiveled to face him and made a circular gesture with your hand as if the implication was universally understood. “If there happens to be some crab Rangoon at your hotel tonight, I will stop by.”
Eddie’s face was blank, totally unreadable for a few seconds, and then a smile teased at the corners of his mouth, crept across his face, and jumped to his eyes. He gave a nod, “crab Rangoon it is then.”
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It's Called Murder, Baby!
A Scream inspired AU starring our favorite Stranger Things characters.
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Part I
Part 2 here
This is set in the 90's - all of the "teens" are in their mid to late 20's.
Synopsis: A string of gruesome murders take a toll on the small town of Hawkins. Friends and family start looking like suspects making it hard to trust those who you are closest to.
Chapter Summary: A double homicide has the entire town reeling.
18+ Only! Minors DNI!
This work will contain elements of violent themes (depictions of crime scenes, murders, etc) and smut.
Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. AFAB!Reader. Character deaths/murders (does not go into heavy detail in this chapter). Semi-Public Sex. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie. Allusions of cheating (but not really).
Word Count: 4.7K
Freshly showered, towel wrapped around your body with your hair hanging down in damp tendrils around your shoulders, you entered your shared bedroom with a still snoozing boyfriend. Hearing the small snores escaping him you almost didn’t want to disturb him. Almost.
“Eds, come on, we’re going to be late.” You shook his sleeping form, leaning down, brushing his sleep mussed hair from his face to give him a soft kiss to his temple.
He groaned, rolling over on his back. “Just five more minutessss.” He whined.
“Get your ass up! I can’t be late again, and I thought you were excited for today?” Pulling some fresh panties from the drawer, unwrapping the towel and letting it fall to the floor as you bent down to pull them up your legs.
Eddie peeked an eye open to look at you now on display for him. He had the perfect view of your naked backside.
“Mmmm. Hey.… sweetheart, you sure you can’t be few minutes late?” Voice still groggy from sleep as he licked his lips, sitting up, palming his already hardening length under the covers.
You finished pulling the material up over your hips, placing your hands there giving him a stern, unamused look.
“That's a no, then?” He halted his movements, but his eyes still roved the expanse of your bare skin.
“You’re insatiable.” Rolling your eyes and ignoring him, instead moving to finish getting dressed.
“Uhhhh… fine!” He huffed, throwing his head back onto the pillows.
The fresh scrapes and small bruises on his right knuckles caught your eye when he moved his hand up the sheets.
“You ok?” you nodded to the purple splotches and angry, raised skin.
“M’fine.” he looked down at them.
“My poor baby,” cooing as you walked over and gently took his hand, bringing his knuckles to meet your lips.
He watched you intently, adam's apple bobbing with a swallow as you finished examining the small contusions.
“Ok well, see you in a few.” Kissing his stubble laced cheek before scurrying away, leaving him always wanting more.
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Once he had showered and dressed himself, coveralls tied at his waist and hair pulled back into a low bun he bounded down the hall into the kitchen where he expected to find you.
“Babe?” He called out, opening the fridge, grabbing the milk to make himself a quick breakfast.
“In here Eds.” Voice drifting from the living room.
He hummed to himself, taking a bowl from the shelf before adding his honeycombs.
“Holy shit! Eddie!” Your high-pitched tone startled him, nearly dropping the milk. He immediately sat it on the counter jogging over to where you sat on the couch.
“What? What's wrong?” He asked, eyes nervously scanning over you.
Your hand covered your mouth, as you pointed to the TV that your eyes were glued to.
“Look!” You exclaimed, already reaching for the remote to increase the volume.
You both watched in abject horror as the camera panned to EMS personnel pushing a gurney across a manicured lawn. It was evident a body lay beneath the white sheet.
A reporter for the state news came into focus, her microphone clutched close to her chest. The petite brunette was in Hawkins, in front of a home you both immediately recognized.
“This small town has been rocked by a gruesome discovery. Earlier this morning, the bodies of Jason Carver and his fiancé, Chrissy Cunningham were found by a family member. Preliminary reports indicate they were brutally attacked. No comment from Sheriff Hopper or Chief Deputy Harrington to confirm any other details for this ongoing investigation.”
“Eds?” You asked, eyes drifting to him momentarily.
“I've got to get to work!” You jumped up from the couch, running past him to slip on your heels and grabbing your small briefcase. “Let's go! Holy shit this huge!”
“Yeah, we can go. Let me grab my keys.” He was still attuned to the TV, but finally snapped out of it, plucking the keys from the bowl by the door and following you.
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Your car was still in the shop, Eddie had been working on it for the past couple of days so he'd been dropping you off before heading in each day.
He still drove his van from high school. He knew enough about cars that he kept the old gal going; always stating there was no need to waste money on some new shiny toy when we've got old faithful. He was right.
You had to drive by the station on your way. Traffic was basically at a standstill. Various news vans precariously parked all around the building and roadway waiting to catch a glimpse of Hopper or Steve to ascertain any other details they might provide.
“Great, more attention than those assholes deserve.” Eddie mumbled under his breath. It was a double homicide, but you wondered had it been anyone else murdered would there be this much news media.
“Eds, be nice.” You soothed. “Besides, Chrissy wasn’t an asshole. She may have been bitchy at times, but she was always nice to me.”
“Yeah, to you. Need I remind you that bitch stiffed me the last time I fixed her fuckin’ car? We almost missed rent that month because of that bullshit.”
He reached for his pack of smokes, taking one between his lips and lighting it as he continued. “As if Carver couldn’t afford it? What a fuckin’ joke.”
“I’m sorry babe, but we won't have to worry about that happening again.” Giving him a small smile.
You gave yourself a once over, checking your makeup and hair in the mirror before shutting the visor.
“Eds, I'll walk the rest of the way.”
You leaned over the console kissing his cheek, but he grabbed your wrist when you turned before you could grab the handle.
“Are you sure? I can go around.” He was already checking the rear view to see if he could back up.
“No, it's ok. Maybe I can find Steve before heading over. See if I can get anything out of him.” You surveyed the building to see if any deputies were outside.
“Hey, I love you.” Grabbing your attention. “Go knock 'em dead.”
“I love you baby, but that's a little insensitive. People just died.” You leaned back over, placing a peck to his lips.
“Right,” he grinned. “Break a leg?”
“Bye Eddie.” Rolling your eyes but still blowing him a kiss once you closed the door and watched him drive away.
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You knew you could get into the Sheriff's station around the side because you do it numerous times a week. Navigating around the other reporters and crew didn’t take long, some of them watching suspiciously as you went.
A door on the side of the station at the back of the alleyway that reads “STAFF ONLY” painted in bright yellow stops you only briefly. You peer through the small window, catching those bright blue eyes of the one and only Robin Buckley giving her a smile and wave.
She smiles up at you in return, getting up from her desk.
“Hey,” as she opens the door ushering you in. “Was wondering if you’d swing by today.”
Robin works reception for the station. It wasn’t something she wanted to do, but Steve had talked her into taking the job once he had gotten back from the academy and was hired full time. She wouldn’t admit it, but she enjoyed it. She was able to stay in the loop for most of the town gossip.
A quick hug hello and you followed her to the employee break room. Really more like a closet with a coffee maker and a small table with two chairs. It was cramped with only the two of you.
“Is he in yet?” you asked as she poured herself some coffee in a paper cup.
“What? No chit chat? Can’t pretend to be here for friendly conversation instead of business?” She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip, eyeing you over the rim. “Yeah, he’s in his office, but he’s in a mood today.”
“I think I can handle him. Thanks Rob!” as you headed down the hall.
It was a small operation. The reception area, with three desks; one was Robin’s situated up front and the other two were for Calvin Powell and Phil Callahan the other two deputies on payroll.
Down the hall past the breakroom, Hopper’s office was at the end. Steve’s was beside it to the right.
His door was closed, a brass plaque that read “Chief Deputy Steve Harrington” adorned the wooden surface. You took a moment smoothing your skirt, and straightening your top before lifting your hand to knock.
“Yeah?” His voice came muffled through the doorway.
You took it as an invitation, popping your head in.
He didn’t look up, papers and photos spread out in front of him. His brows knit in concentration as his hair was beginning to edge past his forehead from looking down all morning. You noted he needed a haircut. He kept it shorter these days but it was starting to curl at the ends.
He was dressed in his camel-colored uniform, sans his duty belt hung on the coat rack in the corner. It made him look so handsome, clean cut. A good upgrade from the polos he used to wear daily. Badge worn with pride, pinned to his chest.
“Hey stranger!” You finally spoke, scooting yourself into the room and letting the door fall closed behind you.
His eyes darted up when he heard your voice. Face lighting up with your presence, shooting you that million-dollar smile.
“Hey, you,” he shut the file in front of him, pushing it off to the side. “As much as I enjoy your company, you really shouldn’t be here today. If Hop catches you, it’ll be both our asses.”
“I swear, I’ll be quick.” You took the seat in front of him. “Anything you could tell me about what went down?” Batting your lashes as you spoke.
He sighed, sitting up a little straighter, folding his hand on the desk. “You know I can’t right now.”
“Steve, please? I need this. You know how big this would be for me?” You put on your best doe eyes, pouting your lip just a bit. It would nearly work every time. “Pretty please?”
He rolled his eyes, but his face softened. You knew you had him.
“Fine, I’ll give you one thing.” He held up his pointer finger for emphasis.
“OK! Anything!” You took your pad from your briefcase, pen in hand and waited for him to continue.
“Put that down, come here.” Nodding toward the space beside him.
You ease from your position and round the large wooden desk, but instead of showing you something from the case file he pulls you into his lap.
You let out a squeak of surprise as your hand lands on his chest but can’t feel his usual warmth through the layers of fabric and added vest.
A large hand comes to rest on your thigh as his other cradles your cheek and jaw, turning your face towards his. You can feel your heart begin to hammer against your chest.
“I can give you this.” His nose nudging yours as he spoke.
Quickly closing the gap, his warm, waiting lips meld into yours as you wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him closer.
Pliant to his movements, allowing his tongue entry with no hesitation as they begin to move against one another. The taste of nicotine was faintly there mixed with his morning coffee.
The seconds ticked by before finally breaking apart, foreheads resting together as you try to catch your breath. Small pants being exchanged in the space between you.
His voice came out a little strained, “It’s been too long.” Closing his eyes as he said it.
“Steve, it’s only been a couple of days.” You let out a small breathy laugh.
He tilted your head to have better access to your neck, his nose following the curve of your jaw peppering kisses as he eased his way down.
“Baby, I’ve got to get over to the post. I'm already running late.” You moved to get up, as he pouted, hands trying, longing to pull you back in.
He relented and watched as you slipped out of your heels, and quickly moved to lock the door. Looking over your shoulder with a devilish glint in your eye.
“Better make it quick.” You smirked.
You’d never seen him move so quickly. The office held a small loveseat in the corner that he immediately moved over to and planted himself back down.
His cock was outlined in his police issued khakis, straining against the fabric as he began to palm himself watching you with already half-lidded eyes. It didn’t take much for him to get riled up. Steve was wrapped around your finger.
Time was short, foreplay would almost be non-existent, which he hated. He loved nothing more than to take his time. Working you up so you’d be gushing around him.
He gave you an outstretched palm when you got close, gripping your hand helping you to balance as you straddled him. Your skirt bunched at the waist, as your clothed core brushed up against his already throbbing hard-on, making your legs give out the slightest as you caged in around his.
Once you were seated, he moved his hands up your bare thighs, stopping when he reached the edge of your panties. Pussy straddling his hard length, as you felt it kick up beneath you causing a fresh wave of arousal as you clenched around nothing.
You thread your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and toyed with the collar of his shirt as you looked into those usually caramel-colored eyes blown so full of lust that only the faintest ring of color still existed at the edges.
You leaned down, taking his lips once more as you ground your hips into his eliciting moans from both of you.
“Honey, if we had all the time in the world, I’d worship your body but we probably have ten minutes max before Robin tries to bust through that door.” He pecked your lips and moved his hand to your still clothed core.
He moved your panties to the side, running a finger gently through your folds, barely grazing your clit as he eased up. The faint touch was enough to make you jolt forward.
“Already wet, baby?” he cooed.
“Mmmm… Yeah Stevie, always for you.”
He eased his way back down collecting some of your slick before moving back up, applying more pressure to your bundle of nerves, drawing small circles there.
Your back arched and your toes curled. He barely touched you but it felt as though you were already teetering on the edge.
“Steve, I need you.” You breathed out.
“I’ve got you baby.” He kissed your cheek, “You wanna help me out?”
His eyes and fingers never left you as you scooted back giving yourself enough room to reach down, undoing his belt.
You fumbled just a bit as he momentarily stopped his ministrations to let out a breathy chuckle.
The zipper gave with ease as you were able to reach into his briefs. Your hand grazed his shaft as he hissed at the contact.
You removed him from his confinements, wrapping your hand around his girthy member. Your thumb slid over his fat mushroom tip as you smeared a bead of precum around and edged your way back down.
“Fuck, honey.” His head fell back against the couch, jaw going slack, and closing his eyes.
You were just as bad off as he was right now, so you opted to put the both of you out of your misery. You gently eased his hand from you and slid the material back to the side sitting up just enough to slide his bare cock through your folds.
As soon as his tip caught your entrance, you started the slow descent, moaning in unison at the feeling, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
You knew there would be a sting. There always was but with no foreplay or orgasm already drawn, it was almost too much.
Inch by delicious inch you bullied your way down onto him until he was finally seated snug inside of your tight heat. You raised your hips, just to slam them back down as you let out a particularly loud moan.
He quickly pulled you up, placing his palm over your mouth as his other hand wound around your waist, halting your movement.
“Shhhh babydoll, you’ve got to be quiet.” His eyes shifting momentarily to the closed door. “We can’t let anyone hear.”
You nodded but he didn’t remove his hand, instead tightening his hold on your waist as he started to piston his hips instead, fucking up into you.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, hands now clutching his shirt where they were planted on his chest.
“It’s probably better if I take over, huh?” Each word punctuated with an upward thrust. Punching the air from your lungs each time.
All you could do is nod once more.
His cock was hitting that sweet spongy spot as the wiry hairs at the base of his cock was hitting your clit just right. Your orgasm was fast approaching.
You couldn’t warn him as your walls fluttered and began to clamp down around him as a muffled scream came out.
“Oh shit, honey. Cumming already?” he mocked. “Guess you missed me too.”
Your orgasm washed over you, his cock relentlessly massaging your walls, working you through it. A few more sloppy thrusts he followed behind with a low groan, as he painted your walls with his hot, sticky spend.
“Fuck, I missed you.” He softly spoke.
He lowered his hand from your mouth and kissed your forehead as you collapsed forward.
“Fuck, Steve.” You huffed a heavy sigh, looking at your watch with a groan.
“Shit, I've got to go,” you pushed off him and stood as he quickly tucked himself back into his pants and smoothed his hair back into place.
“They were both stabbed.” He huffed out as he stood.
“Huh?” With the post orgasmic haze still lingering you couldn’t fully process what he said.
“You wanted something. Jason and Chrissy. They were stabbed. Chrissy was worse. Whoever did this, it feels personal.” He looked to the floor. “She was strung up and practically gutted.”
Your stomach lurched at the thought of the crime scene. You slowly gather your things; Smoothing out your skirt and fixing your top before slipping back into your heels.
“Thank you,” you kissed his cheek and brushed past him, hand settled on the lock, clicking it back into place and opening the door.
“Could I see you again later? My place?” He said in a more hushed tone that halted your movement as you looked back at him.
His eyes were back to their caramel swirls, pleadingly staring at you.
“I can't. My car is still in the shop and Eddie's got me on kind of a tight leash right now.”
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, with a tight lipped smile.
You started to apologize but he quickly turned away from you.
“Can you close that on your way out?”
Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, “yeah, I got it.” Easing yourself into the hallway and closing the door behind you with a soft click.
Each time you left him like this it got a little harder. Telling yourself it's easier this way. You have a good fuck and go back home. Feelings are messy so you keep him at an arm's length.
You caught your reflection in the mirror on the way out. You reapplied your lipstick, swiping an errant smudge and fixing a few stray hairs.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The voice of deputy Callahan, suddenly right in your space. “Sheriff said no press.” He crossed his arms looking down his nose at you.
“I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here visiting friends. As if you don’t see me here at least once a week.” You made to walk past him but he stood in your way blocking the small hallway.
“Excuse me.”
He didn't budge. Only moving his face closer to yours. Trying to be intimidating only making you raise an eyebrow in question. He was a piss poor excuse for a cop, an even worse man.
“Right, a visit. Like no one knows why you come by. Or why Harrington's door is always locked.” He donned a sickly-sweet smile, before it was quickly wiped away by Steve’s booming voice coming from behind you.
“Callahan! Need to get something off your chest?”
He stood a few feet away with one hand on his hip, the other resting on the gun in his belt. He was intimidating. His very essence exuded confidence.
Callahan's head snapped up. Eyes wide with shock from being caught.
“Uh, no Chief… j… just escorting the press off the premises. Like the Sheriff asked.” his shoulders deflated just a bit under the other man’s hardened gaze.
You skirted past him, not bothering to look at the asshole in front of you instead catching Steve’s eyes over the other man's shoulder, throwing him a wink and a smirk before slipping back down the hall.
You quickly said your goodbye to Robin before exiting out the front.
The news reporters perked up but were quickly discouraged when they noticed you weren’t who they were hoping for. You smiled to yourself knowing you were about to go break the story that everyone wanted to know.
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Hawkins Post was just a block down from the station. You were running exceptionally late, even by your standards but you were sure you could smooth it over with the boss once he heard the news you were about to drop.
Starting work straight out of high school for the post was hard. A woman in a man’s world. Nancy and you starting at the bottom, working your way up, now getting stories published at least once a week.
You burst through the door to see everyone scrambling about, no doubt working an angle. Clawing over each other for something newsworthy that hadn’t already been released. You weren’t worried about who you needed to run over to get it first.
Scanning the room, you spot Nancy in what looked like a heated conversation with Fred Benson. She was dressed in her usual skirt with matching suit jacket, hair perfectly in place as always.
She stopped mid-sentence once she spotted you.
“Finally!” she marched over, immediately grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward a quiet corner. For a petite woman, she could be very intimidating, downright scary at times.
“Good morning to you too Nance.” You said, as she turned you face to face and leaned in.
“Can you believe this?” She quietly hissed, eyes quickly scanning the room to see if anyone was watching the two of you.
“Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham?” She shook her head in disbelief. “It’s just… crazy. Who would do this?”
Her big eyes finally looked back up expectantly.
“What?” you asked.
“Please tell me the reason you were late is that you have something and not because you couldn’t get Eddie out of bed again.”
“Well, Nance,” you laughed, “it’s a little of both so…”
“Thank God!” she reached out and grabbed your shoulders pulling you in for a quick hug. “We've got a meeting with Holloway in an hour!”
Tom was a hard ass, misogynistic bastard but he knew good news when he heard it and was a damn good Chief Editor.
“And you have a good source for this?” He looked up from an article he was editing, eyeing you from above the edge of his glasses placed at the end of his nose.
“The best! When have I ever steered you wrong Chief?” You flashed him your brightest smile.
“Ladies, you know we have to tread carefully here. This wasn’t just any homicide. You both know Jason’s dad owns the Post.” He huffed, knowing his hands were a little tied on this one.
“I’m going to be as tactful as possible here. We can leave out the worst of the how, but I also had an anonymous tip that looks like it’s going to pan out.”
He raised his brows, “I’m listening.”
Nancy wasn’t sure where this was going, looking over at you with a confused look.
“The investigating officers found a mask at the scene. It’s mass-produced, sold as part of a Halloween costume. Some peanut eyed ghost guy. Hard to trace. Hell, I bet Melvald’s had the same one on their shelves this past Halloween.”
You could feel Nancy’s eyes boring into the side of your face. You had shared the information with her on the way to talk to Tom but left out this little detail.
He drummed his fingers on the desk, while you waited with bated breath.
“Okay, write it up! I want it in an hour! And remember, tactful!”
“On it Chief!” you jumped from your chair; Nancy hot on your heels as she followed you to your small desk. Taking her seat right beside yours, gathering some notes in front of her.
“You got an anonymous tip?” She asked.
“Huh? Yeah. I got a call right before our meeting.” You answered without looking up from typing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know… I…” Your phone ringing abruptly pausing the conversation, for which you were grateful. “Hold that thought Nance.”
“Hawkins Post,” you cheerfully greeted.
“Hey sweetheart! How’d it go?” Eddie’s velvety voice came through.
“I got the byline baby! Tom is going to let me run with it.” You couldn’t contain the enthusiasm, even with the nature of the article.
“I guess visiting your boy toy paid off, huh?” he huffed a small laugh.
“Jealous?” twirling the cord with your finger.
“Nah, I got nothin’ to worry about, we both know who you come home to, ‘sides,” he lowered his voice an octave, whispering through the receiver. “You know who that sweet pussy really belongs to, huh sweetheart?”
His words went straight to your core, making you subconsciously rub your legs together under the desk. He really knew what he was doing.
“Bet you're squirming in that seat thinking about my cock right now.”
“M’hmmm.” All you could reply.
“I know you are sweet thing, but” voice back to normal, “I’ll see you later. Boss wants to see me and Billy both in his office. Wish me luck?”
“Good luck Eds. Love you.”
“Love you too sweetheart. I’ll see you this afternoon.” He hung up. You turned toward Nance only finding an empty seat; now nowhere to be seen so instead, you got back to work.
By noon, you were staring at a front-page article printed with your name and a breaking story that no one saw coming.
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Dubbed the ‘Ghostface’ Killer, this apparent masked maniac prayed on two of this little town's prominent souls without seemingly any remorse.
Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham were found brutally slain in their shared home earlier this morning by a family member, Chrissy’s mother Laura Cunningham, after numerous phone calls to reach the couple were all in vain. (She declined to comment).
An anonymous source states that the couple was stabbed to death. Due to the nature of the crime, it seems very personal. Details have not yet been released. (No comment from Roane County Sheriff Jim Hopper or Chief Deputy Steve Harrington at this time.)
An anonymous tip has also noted that the investigating officers found a mass-produced Halloween mask at the scene. This particular mask was sold in stores all over the city and state this past Halloween making it practically impossible to trace. (No comment from Roane County Sheriff Jim Hopper or Chief Deputy Steve Harrington at this time.)
A crime of this caliber hasn’t rocked the quiet town of Hawkins since the death of Principal Ronald Higgins in the Spring of 1986 by one of Hawkin’s High School students Henry Creel.
More to come as this story unfolds.
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fatgoth7 · 2 years
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meet the bride (again)
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fatphobiabusters · 3 months
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Gotta say, as a fat person and a writer, one of the most healing things I've done is writing fat characters of my own and giving myself the representation I never got to have. My two favorites are: a stereotypical 80's/90's skater guy who calls everyone "dude" or "bro" and fucking loves classic rock and has fluffy bleached hair that always covers his eyes and he's kind of got Bill and Ted vibes, I'm just realizing.
And a chronically ill lesbian whose weight is viewed as super positive because it's a sign she's recovering from her most recent bout of illness and she's artsy and passionate and geeky and her girlfriend absolutely adores her soft, round face because it reminds her of the moon.
We need more fat characters who get to be more than just The Fat Guy, I don't get why people just seem to refuse to give their OCs actual human traits and instead revolve everything around their fatness and how funny or bad it is to be fat.
I'm glad to know there are people who are actively working on bettering the miniscule positive fat representation we have in media currently. I especially love when people make fat characters who are the opposite of all of the stereotypes and tropes forced on us. The athletic character being a fat person whose body has stayed fat all these years, a fat video game character who isn't forced to be a tank, the fashionista character is a fat person who grew up having to sew their own clothes and now is a sewing master with the best sense of style on this side of the Mississippi river. The fat person with an eating disorder who actually gains weight in recovery, the popular girl in school who's fat and not the bully, a love interest who isn't stick thin for once. I hope you continue to write fat characters you enjoy!
-Mod Worthy
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dankalbumart · 2 years
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Tidal by Fiona Apple Work / Columbia / Clean Slate 1996 Soft Rock / Pop-Rock / Alternative Rock / Alternative Singer-Songwriter / Singer-Songwriter / Piano Rock / Art Pop / Jazz-Pop
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soul-controller · 10 months
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Working His Body(Suit) II [Teaser]
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With his excitement exponentially ramping up as he turned the suit backwards and stared at the large slit that ran along the length of the suit’s spine, Martin’s boner found itself prodding some unintended places as his firm five-inches found itself rubbing along the gloriously sculpted and plump muscular ass cheeks. Rather than feeling embarrassed upon realizing what had occurred, it only caused the gay man to grow more excited as he envisioned a similar sight of his new bodybuilder-self bending over another gym jock and having his way with the jock’s perky ass. Eager to make this concept a reality, Martin moved his hands away from the suit’s shoulders to instead rest along the suit’s waist. Unsure of the right process of how to put the suit on, he opted to start with the legs first as if they were a pair of pants before moving up and applying the top half as if it was a t-shirt. 
With the burly shoulders falling forward as a result and causing the artificial arms to limply lay in a heap on the floor, the back slit grew larger and allowed Martin to finally begin the process of putting the suit on. Upon lifting his right leg up as far as it could go and pointing his foot, the employee plunged the limb deep into the suit as he aimed for the appropriate leg slot. As soon as his foot made contact with the inside of the bodysuit though, a palpable electric sensation coursed through his body as it seemed like both himself and the suit were excited about this potential pairing. This tingling only grew in intensity as the soft and gelatinous-like interior was filled down to the calf with the solidness of Martin’s leg. Upon feeling his toes make contact with the concrete floor, the man suddenly tilted his foot back to a 90-degree angle and allowed his foot and toes to fill the appropriate slots until the entirety of the suit’s right leg was now solid and functional. 
Although the realization that he was now in possession of a bodybuilder’s leg was quite the exciting one and thus made him want to take a moment to flex his insanely large thighs, the man refused to stop and marvel at it. As a result, Martin wasted no time allowing his left leg to replicate the process so he had two completely functional bodybuilder-sized limbs. But upon finishing that process, there was an additional step that would solidify his lower half’s transformation into that of a bodybuilder. The suit at this point was only functional up to 3/4ths of the bodybuilder’s upper thighs, due in part to the fact that he had neglected to pull the suit farther up to allow his average ass and modest cock to fill the deflated pouches intended for them. Eager to remedy this, Martin pulled the front of the elastic-like bodysuit out away from him and then up to allow his testicles, rock-hard cock, and ass to fill their corresponding points in the suit. For a moment, there was sudden loss of sensation as the man could no longer feel his boner, but this was quickly remedied as he felt something peculiar and thus looked down to his crotch. Instead of his normal-sized testicles and 5” cock, Martin’s eyes widened in disbelief as he saw a tube of meat that had to be at least 7 inches and much girthier (which perfectly matched with his new low-hanging and large balls). 
Moving his hands behind him, the employee couldn’t resist gasping in amusement as he felt the sizable and incredibly firm ass cheeks that now violently jutted forth from his tailbone. Never in his life had he possessed or felt a derriere that was that immense and sculpted. From what he saw and felt from his lower half, he already felt like a Greek god...
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After getting the job at his local S-C Fitness, Martin is shocked to find that his work uniform is actually a bodysuit of a rugged bodybuilder. Despite his reservations, the weak and average man's curiosity gets the best of him and he finds himself undressing and seeing what it's like to be so large and muscular. To read more about Martin’s experience as he continues to pull on the bodysuit and see what life is like as a tattooed hunk, click here to sign up for my Patreon!
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japage3moondog · 7 months
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beatles love song hc's
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the modern songs are basically 80's and up. it goes modern song, older song then song of their's.
john lennon
he would excitedly show you 'you are a light by pavement' and tell you it sounds just like you. i feel like that late 90's soft rock sound is very much older john's vibe.
the older love song is 'stand by me', obviously. it's not just a plea for trust and to stay with him, it's a call. like all you have to do is physically stand next to him when you're in need and he'll help you as long as you're there for him too.
the song of his is totally 'oh my love'. despite his past relationships, you make everything feel like the first time and you're not only his significant other you are love to him and the only way he wants to experience love.
paul macca
he's definitely more about passionate ballads, i feel like 'never tear us apart' by inxs would be his go to but for something less intense he'd say 'don't change' also by inxs.
'don't worry baby' by the beach boys is in his daily rotation because it perfectly emulates how he feels about you and his total devotion.
it's hard to pick one from his many, many love songs but i feel like it would have to be between 'so bad' and 'no more lonely nights (ballad)'. something passionate and about being totally whipped for you is his jam.
george harrison
'trees and flowers' by strawberry switchblade, the man loves nature and it has such a romantic sound. personally i prefer the extended mix but both are super good.
'waterloo sunset' by the kinks is such a chill vibe and the story in it is so beautiful and reminiscent of you and george, he loves it.
'if not for you' is just george's admission of how much he truly needs you and everything he's grateful for.
ringo starr
'i only want to be with you' but specifically the tourists' version. it's poppy and bubbly and i feel like he'd have this on repeat.
it would have to be 'stardust' by the pied pipers, he also did a cover of this on his solo debut and it's so sweet.
the song of 'his' would have to be 'you belong to me', i know that technically it's a cover but i can picture him singing this to you in your kitchen while he dances you around. something really romantic and cheesy.
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vintagebunnies · 7 months
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silver springs
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rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader (daisy jones & the six au)
Corroded Coffin is in a desperate need for a new female lead, ready to change it up. Open auditions are held, people come and go, get turned away, until you eventually show up. (6.6k)
fem!reader, enemies to lovers, drug usage/mention, alcohol consumption, swearing, some angst, eddie’s a major douchebag! 18+ only!
chapter 1: rock ‘n’ roll suicide.
ཐི♡ཋྀ
Corroded Coffin was finally hitting it off. They were selling out stadiums and albums left and right, now known as one of the biggest thrash metal bands of the 90’s.
The boys never thought they’d get to this point, the highlight of rock ‘n’ roll. Having an opportunity to experience it all, being able to get the hell out of Hawkins without looking back. Girls practically fell at their feet, a huge difference from High School.
They don’t get strange looks anymore. Now if someone were staring at them, it would be because they were recognized out in public instead of degrading names and harsh glares. Getting gawked at by men and women alike.
Eddie had just finished writing a new song for their new album; Circle of Death.
Despite the harsh title, the songs were nothing of the sort. Eddie wanted to try diverging into something a little different. More softer.
Nothing too soft of course, as that would completely take away from their scene. But every metal band has done slower songs once, right?
The album was solely based around their lives as teenagers, lost love, and anything else someone’s mind can wander to. During the time Eddie spent planning and writing for this album, he basically isolated himself from everyone else. He wanted time to think things out thoroughly, making sure everything comes out properly and entertaining for their thousands of fans.
“Damn, he’s been in there for the past hour and a half,” Jeff stood in their studio, pacing and waiting for Eddie to get out of his daydream in the next room over.
“Think we should check up on him?” Gareth questioned.
“Yeah, he’s wasting time that we could’ve spent recording-“ Jeff was cut off by the sound of a heavy door slamming open.
“I finally finished this shit!” Eddie yelled with joy on his face.
“Jesus Christ!” Jeff jumped back.
Eddie barely paid any mind, grinning from ear to ear at his new song creation.
“What’s got you so happy?” Grant asked.
“Here, read it yourself,” Eddie handed Grant his notebook, a closed-mouth smile on his face.
Grant started reading it over, noticing all of the words that could’ve been but were erased. Eddie’s handwriting was almost hard to read, if the guys weren’t in the studio with him while he was jotting this down, they would’ve thought he was in a rush.
“Shit man, this is actually pretty good,” Grant handed the notebook over to Jeff who was reading over his shoulder. “Are you gonna make this a duet or somethin’?”
“Pfft, no,” Eddie snatched the notebook out of Jeff’s hands.
“Hey-“
“I’m perfectly capable of singing this myself,” Eddie closed the notebook shut. “I’ve done it before and I can do it again.”
“That’s actually a good idea Grant, maybe we should find someone to sing this with you,” Jeff suggested.
Eddie threw himself down on one of the plush velvet couches, tossing his notebook on the cushion right next to him. “What? One of you guys wanna sing a love song with me?”
“Of course I do, Eddie-bear,” Gareth joked, making kissy noises at Eddie. Eddie threw a pillow at Gareth’s head.
“No dude, I mean like-“ Jeff picked up the notebook, opening to the wrinkled page with the lyrics. “-what if we held auditions? I’m sure there will be plenty of girls lining up for the part.”
Eddie had his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Jeff. He must’ve been pondering the idea as he looked completely lost in thought. Eventually, he did speak up.
“What happens if we don’t find someone?” He argued.
“Then it’ll just be a solo song, but hey, we’re fucking rockstars now dude, we have to change it up somehow.” Jeff declared.
The other guys agreed, this new album was supposed to be different from their other albums, it was supposed to contrast to their usual songs.
“Okay okay, fine, but you’ll have to ask Jim about it ‘cus he might not even agree.” Eddie grumbled out.
There were cheers filtering throughout the room, it was usually more difficult to get through Eddie and get him to agree with something, but the guys had a point. They needed to branch out into different styles, it’ll attract larger crowds.
So that’s what they did.
The next day rolled around pretty quickly, Jeff had already gone to Jim with their current idea for this new song.
Jim was their manager, he managed their music, he had the majority of the say on the do’s and don'ts of their music. He was mostly pretty lenient with them though, he thinks that whatever idea they all collectively have and agree on is a choice they can make for themselves.
He didn’t want to entirely make all of the rules for the band, letting them choose their own decisions.
So when Jeff came to him with the duet idea, he thought it was actually a pretty great idea. They’ve never done duets of this sort before, so it was bound to be a tad peculiar for them to do, but not necessarily a terrible idea.
“Alright boys, pull your pants up, auditions are in an hour.” Jim walked into the trailer that the boys shared.
It was nothing like the trailer Eddie lived in growing up, this trailer was much larger and spacious. There were only two rooms in total, but these rooms weren’t cramped and were just enough to fit them.
Eddie jumped up at the sound of Jim’s voice reverberating off the walls, he had a look of confusion on his face and his hair was all mussed up.
“An hour?” Eddie questioned.
“Thanks for notifying us in advance, man.” Eddie mumbled sarcastically.
It didn’t take long for the boys to get ready anyways, but Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least the slightest bit against the idea. He didn’t tell them his doubts, but he didn’t think that they needed another singer to make the band ‘different’.
He thought they were all perfectly fine with where they were at, content with the normalcy.
When the band arrived at the studio, there was already a line of people waiting to be let in. The message about auditions was just sent out yesterday, but since they grew such a large fan base, it wasn’t hard for the word to get around.
“Look at all these people man!” Gareth said excitedly.
Everyone except for Eddie was excited. This was their chance of change and trying things out.
They decided that it was best to let one person in at a time, as letting everyone in at once would be total chaos and strenuous.
Eddie was sat in a hard plastic chair right in the middle of the other guys. He looked disinterested and frankly uncaring for what was happening.
Some people sounded decent and some just sounded absolutely awful. You could pinpoint who exactly only came here to get into bed with the band. The line for auditions was getting shorter and shorter by the minute, and not one person has caught their eye.
They had no clue what they were looking for, but they just wanted someone good. Someone who had potential.
As they were calling the last of the names on the list, Eddie’s ears perked up at the sound of your name. You weren’t quite a prominent figure in the scene, but anyone who was in a band at the time at least knew your name.
You were a singer-songwriter. Anytime you’ve tried to release your first album, with songs already written for, you were turned away or always had someone trying to change up your own music. You became infuriated at the disrespect, most record labels only did it because you were a woman, and thought ‘this sounds better for you’.
That was bullshit. You knew what was better for you, and it was everything you’ve already had in your little journal you keep in your purse at all times.
When you walked into the padded recording room, it’s like everyone’s eyes lit up.
It was almost like you just had this orange aura surrounding you, you looked a lot different then the wannabe rockers that stepped into the studio that day.
You had these large gold hoops that hung from your ears, bangle bracelets decorating your wrists and jingling with every movement, these extremely short cut off denim shorts that showcased your legs, and brown suede knee high boots on your feet.
It was like you time traveled from the 70’s to the 90’s, this is what the band needed. If they wanted change then hell, were they going to get it.
When you sang, you drew everyone to you, just like a siren's song. It was impossible for Eddie to keep his eyes off of you. There was a slight raspiness to your voice when you sang, but still a soft honeyed undertone.
Eddie looked over to the boys next to him, they must’ve been lured in too, as their eyes could not leave you. He could practically read their minds and their every waking thought just by the looks on their faces.
You sang just a small snippet of Janis Joplin's Move Over.
When you spoke, it broke the trance they were in.
“Was that good?” You had your hands on the bulky headphones sitting on your ears, a slight smile on your lips.
The boys shared a mutual look. They finally found someone for the duet.
What better person than someone who was an aspiring musician anyhow?
Eddie was the first person to give you an applause, the first applause today for that matter. The guys all joined in, giving you approving smiles.
“That was definitely the best performance we’ve seen all day,” Jeff announced.
The boys all agreed, voicing their satisfaction.
They all made their way to the recording room you were in to greet you. You were absolutely over the moon, this moment felt surreal to you, your own career as a musician would finally take off.
Eddie didn’t really say much, just staying quiet the whole time. He thought you did great, just as the others did, but he still wasn’t sure about the duet. He felt that having someone else singing with him would throw him off, it also didn’t help that he just could not keep his eyes off of you.
“So, I’m gonna guess the applause meant I did good?” You asked.
“Yeah, absolutely! That was fucking awesome,” Gareth said exuberantly. “How ‘bout you Eddie?”
“Uh, yeah, you did good.” He was short with his words, giving a tight lipped smile.
All you did was slightly nod your head to his response, looking around the room. You could feel the tension, you didn’t want to just barge in on an already formed band, but they did have auditions. You weren’t going to miss your only opportunity.
Jeff slapped Eddie’s bicep with the back of his hand.
“Ow man, what the fuck?”
“So, Jim! Whatcha think?” Jeff turned to Jim.
“Well, she had the only decent performance today. It’s up to you guys,” Jim already knew you were going to be chosen for the spot.
Everyone but Eddie verbally agreed that you were perfect for the song, you had the look and the voice for it. You weren’t sure what was up with Eddie and why he was so distant from everybody, but you just chalked it up to that he just wasn’t a social person and went on.
This was just the beginning.
When you got back to your apartment later that night, you were elated. Everything went well, you were officially going to be able to release your own music now. If the guys like the way you perform in the duet, they were willing to let you in the band permanently.
It was perfect, you were able to set the future for young girls who aspired to become a musician. Being able to be that prominent figure in the scene right next to Joan Jett and Stevie Nicks.
The first thing you did when you got back was chuck your shoes off. You felt drained from the day you had, but you couldn’t complain. All you could think about was unwinding.
Your apartment was small, there were no hallways, everything was connected and separated just by thin walls.
When you got to your bedroom, you opened your bedside table drawer and took out a small baggie, taking it with you into your tiny living room.
You emptied the crushed powder onto your coffee table, inhaling it up your nose in one go. The burn hurt wonderfully. Giving you enough reprieve for the rest of the night. Everyone told you this was a horrible addiction, but you’ve heard it all already. You know.
But you weren’t going to let someone else run your life. This is what you wanted.
Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.
Meanwhile, back at the trailer that the guys shared, Eddie was the only one who was still awake. He was drinking straight from the whiskey bottle, chugging large gulps after one another.
Eddie didn’t do well with change, he had enough of it for a lifetime. He didn’t want to do it again, so that’s why he refused to welcome you to the band with open arms.
He knew you’d do good during the actual performance on stage. He also knew what would happen afterwards. You’d be an official member of Corroded Coffin. It didn’t feel right to him.
Corroded Coffin was formed by four teenage boys who were trying to escape reality. They always dreamed of getting where they’re at now, but Eddie didn’t think they’d ever have to make room in the band for one more.
His only solution was to drink all of his problems away. He’d feel numb enough to finally fall asleep. Just like you, a fleeting moment of reprieve.
Eddie downed the last drop of the alcohol, it felt like fire in his throat, but filling up an empty spot in his stomach. He eventually succumbed to his fatigue, falling into sleep.
It was a Monday.
Monday’s are known to be the worst day of the week, but for the band, they’d probably say it was the best day of the week. They’re now able to practice and record as many songs as they possibly can, preparing for the long week ahead.
Eddie wasn’t so enthusiastic today though. For the entirety of this new upcoming week, you’d be officially recording the duet with him. He had really nothing to say to you, but his attitude spoke volumes.
The guys even realized his brooding mood, not once smiling, cracking jokes, or overall enjoying himself while doing the thing he loves the most. You started to become frustrated. You weren’t sure of what you did to be on whatever hate list Eddie has. Hell, the man hasn’t even fully gotten to know you yet!
If he was going to be that way, well, so were you.
“I think this line should be sung a little softer, I don’t think the screamo works for the lyrics.” You suggested.
“Softer? What about this band looks soft?” Eddie retaliated.
The both of you were standing in the recording room, side by side with Eddie’s tattered notebook on a stand for you to both read from. Eddie had to sort out which lines you were going to sing, and what he’d sing.
“I’m jus’ saying, maybe your fans would enjoy the slight change,” You said with a smug grin. You were trying to lighten the mood, unaware that you were just pissing him off even more.
“Well those fans, became fans cus’ of the ‘screamo’ you speak of,” Eddie put up air quotation marks with his fingers. “Besides, I was the one who wrote the song, so therefore I get a say on how it gets sung.”
“I’m not singing it then.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You wanted a duet partner so you’re going to get a duet partner,” You placed your hands on your hips. “Sometimes you don’t always get what you want.”
“Excuse me? Do I have to remind you that you were the one who chose to show up to those shitty auditions?” Eddie’s brows furrowed. You could tell you pulled a nerve.
“Do I also have to remind you that you were the one who also agreed to bring me into this? Why complain when I’m right here?” You stood face to face with him now. “I am the solution to this duet! If you don’t like my requests then fine, tell me to leave.”
Eddie was looking down at you, anger in his eyes and all over his face. He was actually really beautiful when you could see him this close. His freckles were like constellations on his cheeks and his nose, bangs resting lightly on his forehead.
He didn’t say anything, just scoffed and turned back to the lyrics in front of him.
“Fine, but that’s it. You start changing up these lyrics and you’re on your own.”
You smiled, delighted that you got your way.
Your cute little smile just irked Eddie even more. He was never this easy to negotiate with, but you were right. He did agree on letting you in the band for this song.
The both of you got right to rehearsing, not needing anymore time to have a dispute over the theme of the song. But you couldn’t help to notice that every time you attempted to sing, Eddie would just sing right over you even louder.
“Y’know, it would be great if I could actually hear myself,” You placed your hand on the notebook to catch his attention.
“It’s not my fault you can’t sing any louder.” Eddie mumbled, it was so quiet you just barely missed it.
“I don’t know what the fuck crawled up your ass today, but I highly suggest you pick it out.” You said with more irritation laced in your tone.
Eddie didn’t even respond, just placed his guitar back on the stand and walked towards the door, completely abandoning you.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You questioned.
“Going to pick that thing you mentioned out of my ass.”
He just opened the door to the room and walked out, joining the other guys who were mindlessly fiddling with their instruments.
“What the fuck!” The guys in the other room looked up after hearing your muffled yelling from the next room over. You were standing there in the room alone, arms up next to you to display your annoyance.
“What happened in there, man?” Gareth asked.
“Nothin’.” Eddie said while grabbing a water bottle, then throwing himself down onto one of the couches.
Everyone’s attention diverted over to you when the heavy door slammed against the wall, and you stood there with a scowl on your face. Eddie didn’t even pay you any mind, keeping his concentration on the water bottle in his hands.
“You’re just gonna walk out like that?! We have yet to get anything done!” You yelled, the sound of your bracelets clanking together with every movement.
“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’, still not looking at you.
“You stormed out of the room over a stupid comment, I don’t know how the hell you made it this far in this industry with your huge ass ego.” You crossed your arms over your chest.
Your response seemed to throw him off guard.
“Oh yeah, ‘cus my ego brought me to auditions for a band right? Hopin’ to make it big through someone else’s fame. Hoping that maybe the songs in my notebook will make it further than the same four walls of my room.” Eddie stood up after that, throwing the plastic bottle onto the cushions.
You were speechless. Embarrassed. You didn’t want the other guys to think you were using them to boost your own music, but Eddie made it loud and clear how he thought about you. You weren’t sure you could take anymore of his cold attitude.
“Fine. Have it your way then, good luck finding someone else who will deal with you, ‘cus I’m fucking done.” With that, you turned on your heels and gathered your stuff, making your way to the exit.
“Hey! Wait!” Jeff tried to get you to come back.
You ignored their protests to get you to turn around, slamming the door behind you leaving a resounding ‘thud’ through the room.
“What the fuck man!” The guys were all visibly pissed at Eddie, you were their only chance at change, and they felt like Eddie blew it for them all.
“Dude, do you realize how difficult it was to find someone in this city who was actually good?!” Gareth was equally just as upset.
“We’ll find someone else, it’s L.A. It’s not the end of the world.” That’s all Eddie said to them, following right behind you and leaving himself.
No one chased after him, letting him go figure out this mess on his own. They didn’t know why he was being such an asshole, he was usually never like this towards anyone. Always giving everyone a chance and the benefit of the doubt. But he just couldn’t make an exception for you.
It’s been days since the guys have heard from you, you went completely silent. If only they knew what was really happening.
Since that day, you’ve fallen in a complete catatonic state, shutting out the rest of the world around you. Everything was for once going your way, and now it just crashed and burned. Eddie absolutely humiliated you, and showed no remorse for doing so.
You found solace in a bag of quaaludes you found in your kitchen drawer, it was the only thing among other drugs that calmed your racing mind. Right now you laid haphazardly on your couch, staring up into the ceiling. The world was spinning, but that was normal. You took more than usual tonight, but nothing beyond the point than you’ve taken before.
You wanted nothing more than to punch Eddie’s beautiful face, maybe tell everyone who adored him how he really was. He was nothing more than a douchebag.
Fame must’ve fucked him up, made him grow some type of superiority complex. He tells the same sad story of his childhood to get sympathy from thousands of people, but behind closed doors he’s nothing more than a narcissistic douchebag.
The few pills you’ve taken weren’t enough, you needed something else to take your anger away. Something to calm you down more.
You stood up on shaky legs, staggering over to your kitchen holding onto the counters as you go. You grabbed the half empty bottle of whiskey from your counter, drinking straight from the bottle. Your hands were just as unstable as your legs, barely able to hold the glass bottle.
You made the trek back over to your living room, right before your legs decided that they didn’t want to work properly anymore, making you stumble over your own two feet and dropping the bottle. The glass shards slid everywhere, the brown liquid inside creating a puddle. At that point, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep for the rest of your life.
As cautiously as possible to avoid getting glass up your foot, you crawled over the couch and face planted into the cushions. Hoping by the time you woke up, you’d be reoriented enough to function properly.
You woke up what felt like days later to a heavy hand banging on your front door.
“Go away.” Your scratchy voice yelled out.
The knocking just got louder, not showing any sign of stopping.
“I said, fucking go away!” You lifted your head from the cushions.
“It’s me. Jeff.” His voice was muffled from the barrier of the door.
Hearing his name, you shot up. You’ve been refusing to speak with them since the argument, wanting to stay as far from Eddie as possible.
You sobered up since a few hours ago, the world wasn’t spinning as much anymore, making it easier to stand up and walk. You made sure to keep a look out of the scattered glass, staying physically aware of furniture around you.
When you got to the door, you unlocked the locks on your flimsy door handle, opening the door just enough so that he’d see you and not get a peek at your apartment's current state.
“Hi.” Your throat burned.
You were sure you looked like a mess. Only wearing a tank top and a pair of panties. Your hair was most definitely all over the place, and your makeup was smeared all over your cheeks.
“Hey,” Jeff’s eyes lit up when you opened the door. “Jus’ wanted to check up on you, you haven’t returned our calls,”
“Oops, forgot to pay the phone bill.” You tried to joke, but no smile found its way on your face.
“Can we talk? I didn’t have a chance to fully speak with you after, y’know..” He scratched the back of his head, looking away briefly.
You laughed through your nose, “After Eddie was a dick to me? Yeah, kinda wanted to keep my distance.”
“Uhm, ignore the mess..” You mumbled while hastily sweeping up the broken glass shards. The majority of the whiskey had dried up, leaving a decent size stain in the wood flooring.
“Oh shit- Lemme help with that.” Jeff went and grabbed paper towels, wiping up whatever liquid was left.
The clutter of glass was quickly cleaned. You’d have to get a rug to cover the stain.
“Sooo, what did you want to talk to me about?” You turned to him, throwing yourself onto your tiny sofa and crossing your legs criss-cross.
“Everything, really,” Jeff chuckled. “I feel like we left off on a bad note. With Eddie freaking out and then walking out, I couldn’t really say much to you.”
You were picking at a loose thread on the couch.
“Listen, we would love you to be in the band. Fuck what Eddie says. It’s three against one, his word means nothing,” He leaned forward, his hands clasped together in front of him.
“Eddie didn’t have it easy growing up, so anyone new that comes in his life, he has this habit of just sabotaging himself and his image. He didn’t mean it.” He had sincerity in his eyes.
“Sometimes he’ll be that way, but it’s just Eddie. He never really opened up to us about anything that’s goin’ on in his head, but that’s ‘cus he’s scared of being ignored.” Jeff looked down to his hands. “Please don’t tell him that I told you this.” He looked back up at you.
You just laughed, leaning back onto the couch and drawing your knees to your chest.
“I had a shit life too, but you don’t see me goin’ around and being a total asshole to people.” You said.
“My mom only had me to make another man jealous, to show him that she can get laid and have another man’s baby. She never loved me. By the time I was fourteen? My mom was gone,” You hugged your arms around yourself. “She ran off with said man who she tried to make jealous.”
There was silence, tension even. It was so thick it was suffocating, no one said anything.
“To this day she refuses to talk to me, trust me, I’ve tried. But if there’s one way to get her to hear me, see me, it’s this. I wanna show her I made something of myself without her shit parenting.” Your brows were furrowed, anger infiltrated your mind at the mere thought of your mother.
Silence again. You looked up to Jeff to see if he was even listening, and there it was. He was looking at you with pity. You wish there was a rewind button so you could just turn back time and not say anything at all. Just keep quiet and let him think Eddie is the victim. You hated the pitying looks you’d get, the last thing you need is for someone to feel sorry for you.
You’ve experienced enough sorrow.
“Anyways, I’ll come back. Eddie’s not gonna run me out, he’s gonna deal with me whether he likes it or not.” You said, sitting up straight.
Jeff’s face just lit up, akin to a child’s face in a toy store. He stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Thank you, you won’t regret this. I promise you this time.” He replied, making his way to the front door. You stood up and followed right behind him.
“You can come back on Saturday, the weekends are less hectic and Eddie is less likely to blow up,” He turned around to look at you, hand on the doorknob.
“And.. I’m sorry about what happened with you and your mother,” He placed his hand on your shoulder. “You’re going to go far, Y/N.”
He gave you a small smile and left.
Those words will replay in your head for the rest of the night. Hell, probably for the rest of your life.
You’re gonna go far, you’re gonna shove it in your mothers face and tell her, ‘I did it’.
Saturday came very quickly.
Maybe you were trapped in your mind, but you were nervous. You felt like a kid going to a new school. You aren’t new, though. You’ve been here before, you’ve done this.
Walking into the studio granted you a little relief, Eddie wasn’t there yet. It was only Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and yourself. It was almost like a weight was lifted off your chest. Sure, maybe him arriving and you already being there was worse than getting there when he was here, but the guys aren’t going to let him boss you around.
“We’re so glad you’re back, it didn’t feel right without you here.” Gareth voiced.
“Let’s hope I don’t regret coming back.” You said with a smile.
A few minutes in, and all of the guys were conversing with you. It felt like you’ve known them for years. You were so deep in conversation that you didn’t notice Eddie walk through the door. He just stood there in the doorway, staring at you.
“What’s she doin’ here?” He questioned.
“She’s here ‘cus we need her, you know that.” Jeff replied.
Eddie just rolled his eyes and walked in, walking right to the recording room. “Well? We just gonna sit here, or are we gonna get shit done?” Eddie questioned bitterly.
“Yup.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag that was resting on the ground and grabbing the pill bottle inside.
The small pills rattled around in the bottle. Your drug of choice today was Dextroamphetamine. Different from the usual quaaludes, but it was all you had in your bag currently and you knew you were going to need it.
You quickly popped a few of the pills into your mouth, swallowing them with ease. Dexies help you focus more, and maybe you’ll be more calm throughout rehearsing.
You hurriedly made your way to the live room, not wanting to fuel the fire that was already brewing inside Eddie.
“We’re gonna need to start over, since you probably don’t remember where we left off.” Eddie said emotionless, not even looking at you.
“I actually do remember where we left off, but we should start from the top anyhow. You were the one who stormed out.” You were quick with your response, not looking at him either.
“That’s funny, ‘cus I’m not the one popping pills.” He lowered his voice.
Your hand tightened around the mic stand you were holding. You weren’t going to respond to him, no matter what you said back it wouldn’t warrant a great reaction from him.
The guys walked into the room with big smiles on their faces, laughing and fooling around.
“You guys ready to officially start this!” Gareth yelled out.
Neither you or Eddie really replied, both murmuring out a quiet ‘mhm’. At that everyone immediately took their places; Gareth at the drums, Jeff at the bass, Grant at guitar, you and Eddie both doing vocals while Eddie has his guitar as well.
The song started out slowly, no need for heavy instruments. This song didn’t necessarily require anything heavy anyways, but it was still nice to keep a few of the thrash metal elements to the music, no matter how fast or slow the song was. You had the majority of the vocals, but Eddie had a few.
Things were just a little different this time. You weren’t expecting Eddie to let you off that easily, he only asked why you were here and that’s it. You felt that was a major upgrade from last time. But of course, it wouldn’t be Eddie if he didn’t ignore you most of the time.
You could tell he was trying his hardest to not make eye contact with you. You were able to feel him glancing at you, but whenever you made the move to turn your head and look at him yourself, he’d quickly turn away, putting his focus back into the written lyrics or his guitar.
By the end of the first half of practice, your throat hurt. Your voice had a raspiness to it from the strain, but it felt great. You were on cloud nine. Everything was finally falling back into place, you felt that high that you’d only get when you smoked weed and drank, even though you only took a few pills.
“Holy shit! That was fucking awesome!” Grant shouted out.
“Hell yeah it was! This rehearsal was so much better than last time!” Gareth yelled back.
It was time for a much needed break, everyone made their way back into the main room of the studio.
“What did you guys think of that?” You asked while sitting on the red velvet armchair, taking a small sip out of your bottled water.
“That was even better than your audition, dude! I mean, not that your audition wasn’t good, but this was like, hundred times fucking better!” Jeff exclaimed.
You giggled at his enthusiasm. Jeff reminded you of a brother you never had, you’d picture this is what having a brother would feel like. Even though you’ve known him for a total of a week, he treated you like you’ve known him for ages. Never once letting the awkwardness of meeting someone for the first time appear between you both.
“Maybe once this album gets debuted, we can record some of the songs I’ve written? We can release it as an album for the band as a whole,” You suggested.
Eddie looked up at you at that one.
“Already planning that far ahead?” He asked. “We have yet to even perform this one, why don’t you wait before jumping to something new?”
You scowled. “No need to get so uptight, it was just a suggestion.” You bit back. His attitude towards you has been hot and cold all day, sending out mixed signals constantly. You were never able to tell how he was actually feeling, one minute he acted like he liked you at least a little, then the next he acted as if you were the worst thing to walk this planet.
“I’m jus’ sayin’.” Eddie had a bored expression on his face, as if your existence was an inconvenience.
You just rolled your eyes, not interested in getting into another heated debate with him. You chugged half of your water bottle, knowing that once you leave the studio today you’d have to stop at the liquor store to buy another bottle of whiskey, or maybe something stronger.
“Okaaay you two! Maybe we should end break early today, we need to practice as much as we can.” Grant suggested.
Jeff and Gareth both agreed, Eddie only nodding in response. You didn’t really care for the break, wanting to take up as much practice as you can.
Walking into the recording room was less exciting as it was before, it seems like Eddie ruined the mood once again with his comments towards you.
“Maybe we should find a certain part of the song to focus on, there’s some parts we need to fix,” You offered. Eddie seemed to hate that idea, as he scoffed.
“I thought the guys sounded fine, so I’m not sure what parts need fixing.” Eddie responded. The statement wasn’t outright rude, but it was just the tone in his voice that set you off. As if he was suggesting you were the problem.
“I don’t know, you wrote the lyrics, so you tell me.”
“It’s definitely not the lyrics, maybe it’s the person who’s singing them.”
“Okay, I get it. We left on a bad note last time, but I still don’t understand why you’re always such a bitch to me. I have done nothing to you!” You threw your hands in the air.
“How the fuck am I supposed to get anything done when you’ve had this, I don’t know, two-faced attitude towards me,” You were fuming at this point, you didn’t care the guys were watching. “One minute you seem fine with me being here, maybe even enjoying my presence, and then the next minute you’re just- you’re- an egotistical prick!”
“Let’s not do this. We gave you a second chance, you’re lucky you’re even back here. We have shit we have to get done.” Eddie surprisingly showed no want in arguing, but you knew deep down he’d love nothing more than to get under your skin. But you also didn’t want to argue. But you also couldn’t stand him shutting you out and trying to silence you.
“This is what I fucking mean.” Your response was less fierce. The ongoing back and forth between you two was tiring, it was getting hard to keep up with, and you’ve only been here for a day and a half.
You just sighed and turned your attention back to the sheet music. You knew when to continue fights and when to stop them, and in this moment it was best to just let it go for now. Mainly for the sake of the others, not Eddie.
The rest of rehearsal was a bit rocky, some pauses here and there and sharp glares exchanged between you and Eddie. You made sure you stopped to grab another bottle of whiskey before heading home for the night.
Next week was going to be a long, long week.
ཐི♡ཋྀ
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nexysworld · 1 year
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Road Trip 🎵
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Requests are Open - Masterlist
Summary: A short fluffy oneshot where reader teases Olderboyfriend!Leon about his choice in music. Pairings: Older BF Leon x GN Reader Tags: Use of the F word This was inspired by this thread with @hxllfiredoll and @gigabyte-flare about DadRock!Leon. I loved it so much I just wanted to make a tiny blurb to start and explore that concept. (No hate I love dad rock tho lol)
You loved being in his Jeep, not only did it give you a great view of the scenery but it was the only vehicle you could trust Leon not to crash, finally there was no fear of forfeiting your life just for a road trip. However, for the past while you hadn’t been able to contain the soft giggles that kept escaping your lips while the wind blew your hair into a mess. “What’s so funny?” Leon asked, raising a thick blonde eyebrow at you. “N-nothing, nothing’s funny.” You said between stifling laughs. “Yeah right, you’ve been giggling over there for a good half hour now. What’s up?” “I just… Leon, is this really the music you listen to?” “Yeah, so what, got a problem with it?” “No it’s just, Alice in Chains really? That’s like my dad’s music.” “Ouch you wound me baby. I’ll have you know that Alice in Chains is a pinnacle of 90’s grunge. Their earlier work was a little too rough but when Dirt came out in 1992 I think they really came into their own.” “Thanks Patrick Bateman.” You said, rolling your eyes. 
The next song came on and Leon decided to  sing out loud obnoxiously tapping on the steering wheel cutting between lyrics as he drove. “♫ And I feel that time's a-wasting, go So where ya going to tomorrow? . . . And I feel it . . .Where ya going for tomorrow? ♫”
“God, the only thing worse than your choice in music is your singing.” You tossed an empty snack wrapper at him.
He laughed in return. “Fine, you want something more modern?” He pushed the button and removed the current mixtape before replacing it with another. Of course Leon still had a tape player in his car. “Oh god . . . Hawthorne Heights? That is not modern babe. I never pegged you for an emo kid though.” Leon shrugged and continued with his singing.” ♫ And all I had was the memory of what was . . . . I never thought I'd live to tell . . .What's a dream and what is real, the way I really feel ♫.”
“Stoooooooooop.” You groaned flicking through the other tapes in the glove compartment of the car. You finally settled on something you would listen to, popping the current tape out and replacing it. “Oh so Stone Temple Pilots and Hawthorne Heights is a no go, but Nine inch Nails is more your alley?” He chuckled when he heard you fast forward the tape until ‘Closer’ started playing. “You naughty, naughty thing.”
“I guess some dad rock can be okay.” “Dad rock, huh? Fuck am I getting old?” “Yeah you are.” You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “But I love ya anyway.”
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