Slow
If I had an audience
I'd cover my face
Lock away myself
In a lonesome place
If I'd had a premonition
Of how this would be
I would still have begged
And took you home with me
Still have done it all
Done it hopelessly
And buried myself where no eye could see
Well, I lost my heart when my back was turned
If you see it, could you let me know?
And if you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
If I had a crystal ball
I still wouldn't see it all
I swear I didn't do it
Just to make you crawl
And if I had an audience
I'd ask them to leave
How can I give them what I can't recieve?
How can I pray when I just don't believe?
And sometimes it takes
All your heart just to breathe
Well, I lost my heart when my back was turned
If you see it, could you let me know
And if you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
Well, there's nothing that I wouldn't give in this whole world
To be the man you met long ago
And if you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
If you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
Don't let me see
Don't linger at my door
Tell me again
Was it to you I swore
That no one would play
With your heart anymore
Well, I lost my heart when my back was turned
If you see it, could you let me know?
And if you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
If you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
If you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
If you've got to leave me, baby
Won't you do it slow?
Writers: Anthony Hoffer and John Lawler (Jon Fratelli)
Album: Eyes Wide Tongue Tied
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Steddie fic idea:
Someone recorded one or a few of Corroded Coffin's songs and put it on cassette tape. (It could be live show, but the sound would have to be really clear)
In a shuffle, the tape gets played at a party Steve goes to...and he is enamored. He ends up paying the guy who played it $5 for the tape, and the song becomes his favorite.
All Steve has of the song is the one mixed tape. Nobody he talks to knows where the song came from. The record store was no help. (He is, of course, asking all the wrong people)
Steve is also very afraid that he will overplay the tape and break it.
Out of all the Tears for Fears, Abba, Bruce Springsteen, etc out there, *this* is the song that could save him from Vecna...but he doesn't even know what it is really called or who made it.
...
How funny is it that Eddie Munson wrote that song about some hot jock that he had a crush on...
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The First Taste
(+18, mdni)
finnick odair, who’s finally gotten you underneath him, can no longer get enough of you. finnick odair who finally had you at the will of his hands, in his web; gentle hands sliding down your body as his lips embrace the curvature of your neck. until his hands reach your hips and his thumbs dig ever so slightly into the soft fat. every sound, every sigh, every shy call of his name and he has the clench his jaw because he feels as if he’s the one being touched and explored. finnick odair who gives you a soft kiss and a gentle question of, “do you feel ready for this, honey?” and with a nod, he slowly starts moving lower, consuming your entire being in passionate kisses and small bites that he immediately soothes with his tongue.
he’s drunk off you now, mindlessly kissing and tasting every spot as he travels lower— the the one spot that’s a wonder you’ve never really dared to explore. you sighed, with a soft moan following soon after as he reached your vulva with a gentle peck. you look down to him, who never looked away from you. he looked starved. you reach to brush along the side of his jaw because you love him so much. “i love you,” finnick always seemed to read your mind. you try to reach down to him in an uncomfortable position of moving onto your elbows and he meets you halfway.
the way he kisses you is mind bending, it’s always a chase that you immediately let him win. you’ve been growing weary for a while now, and no one is to blame. finnick wanted to take his time, wanted you to know that you were more than sex, that he wanted you for your heart and soul. he didn’t want to rush to the capitol’s standards. you started to get impatient; heaven cannot wait forever, after all. you smile against his lips and he follows suit, slowly pulling away and fluttering his eyes open to give you this look. this loving look that tells you ‘i’m here, i’m always here,’ before going back down as you reposition your back and head onto the mattress.
your eyes are on the ceiling when you let out a surprised moan and your thighs flinch. finnick, that man, that man who playfully nipped at your inner thigh. that man who’s now chuckling against said thigh. “finn,” you whine, threatening to close your legs around his head but he’s already spreading them back apart. “i’m sorry, sweet girl,” he still has that playful grin on his face. his calloused hands gently rub at your thighs, thumbs drawing small circles as he finally reaches back down. gently kissing your folds, you let out a sigh of air you didn’t know you were holding. he goes at that for a little while, relishing in the wetness you produce, until he needs the first taste and laves his tongue over your pussy.
your hands immediately reach for something to hold, fingers slipping through his bronze hair. his tongue runs between your folds up to your clit, lips enveloping the small bundle of nerves that has you arching your back and whining at the foreign feeling. finnick looks up to you, the most he can in this position, and watches your chest rise and fall. he watches you bite your lower lip, he watches the column of your neck bob as you swallow down moans. “finnick… finnick, feels ‘s good.”
he’s losing his mind; seeing his love so fucked out, he urges you to an orgasm fairly quick. yet he doesn’t stop until your thighs are shaking for a second one. he breathes you, especially after his first taste.
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