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#there is so much I could riff here
renee-mariposa · 3 months
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Mulder and Scully are like bittersweet exes at the beginning of season two 😂😂😂 this show is soooo funny omg
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saveugoodmadam · 6 months
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It's been 6 months since I first saw newsies omg????
6 months since I sat in my seat in the interval and flicked through my programme to find the guy playing Crutchie since I'd already decided he was my favourite and found the profile that said "Matthew Ducket" and immediately had the deep gut feeling my brain was about to drop whatever it was holding like a hot rock and latch onto the show and his acting for dear life.
6 months since I was incredibly right about that fact 😀
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arthur-r · 2 years
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not trying to get my hopes up but um. cello bow dropped into the crowd?? hello????
#going to a happy fits concert in the very near future i’m beyond excited about it#and as a cellist i have special feelings about the happy fits and i would literally die if i got one of calvins bows#for the record he takes terrible care of them (hard rock riffs on cello is inevitably hard on it and also. i don’t think he uses rosin#considering all the fraying. that is constantly there. these are terribly maintained bows)#however. i would scream and cry if i could have one to keep in a very special place and never ever let it go#we’re going to be standing at the front cause i’m bringing my little sister who’s very small so we’re showing up early#and we’re going to be right up as close to the front as we can get and i just think if he did it again i could catch it#(he has historically done this for at least one other concert i’ve seen it on video before from not on this tour)#anyway it’s the happy fits and daisy the great and that’s like. my two favorite currently active musicians#(phoneboy will also be there but i hardly know them so that’s less exciting)#anyway i’m going to bring a piece of paper and a sharpie for getting autographs and just very strongly hope that the stars will align for me#it will also still be incredibly cool just getting to see them play. but i would cry if any of them touch my hand or drop a cello bow or any#of the many things that instagram videos have gotten my hopes up about (somebody posted to their instagram story mina touched their hand)#in conclusion i haven’t been doing the most incredibly good mentally but i’m kind of hoping this concert will be the best day of my life#that would kind of be a sad life. but like. the point is i hope it goes well and it’s happening soon. and yeah#spent all of tonight transferring seven of the new daisy the great songs into ultimate guitar#and i got super hyperfocus about it so now i’m doing a little bit unwell. but i’m also proud of myself for figuring it all out#and anyway i’m pretty much heading to bed but i got this instagram notification (i have instagram for bands and irls) and i just can’t#so yeah. in conclusion. calvin langman do this in minneapolis challenge#and i’ll likely not be around here til tomorrow or afterward cause it’s late. but yeah#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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goldenhypen · 9 months
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→ ENHYPEN’S RED FLAGS !! ⚠︎
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PAIRING | ot7 x fem!reader
GENRE | crack
WORD COUNT | 1.3k
WARNINGS | mentions of food; reader is referred to as “girl”; i’m pretty sure it’s fine but it is possible i made mistakes w the tenses (i’m still tryna get used to writing more in present tense T-T)
DISCLAIMER | THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY A FORM OF HATE TOWARDS ENHYPEN (pls i love these boys w my entire being how could i) this is a joke so don’t take this too seriously lol
A/N | had the time of my life choosing pics for the moodboard btw they had me out here cackling at 3 am (first red flag: i’m out here losing sleep bc of them !! smh)
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이희승 ! HEESEUNG
too handsome… how can you stand to look at that devilishly handsome face without ever passing out due to lack of oxygen in your lungs when he’s always taking your breath away?! also y’all become way too popular; people are always staring at you two (not only heeseung but you too obviously 😏), it’s tiring being so famous yk 🙄
good at everything… it’s lowk invigorating sometimes bc he’s always outdoing you in everything. when you play games, he’s beating you; when you’re having fun at karaoke, he’s always out-singing you or showing off with his fancy riffs and harmonies; when you’re playing sports together, he always has a way of beating you, no matter what the sport. he even manages to do better at the simple task of making ramyeon. and we all know that’s only to list a few. it’s just so tiring having such a perfect bf 😔
박종성 ! JAY
jawline is too sharp… you cup his jaw as you kiss him then suddenly you hurt your hand on his sharp jawline !! it’s not fair that you have to sacrifice your hands every day just because he looks so good.
cooks for everyone… because he cooks so much, you can’t just be hanging out watching him be all hot and sexy as he cooks for everyone all the time !! you’ve had enough of back hugging him, cheek pressed against his firm back muscles (they’re so strong, it hurts your face !!), or smelling and eating all the delicious food,,, you just wanna spend alone time with your man, without the kitchen as the third wheel :’D your bf is just so husband material, and being able to provide for everyone aside from just you and him is just so, totally, very much, rlly unattractive (that’s sarcastic btw i actually couldn’t come up w any negative points to this why would anyone hate that about him-)
심재윤 ! JAKE
always has his tongue hanging outside of his mouth or his teeth sunk into his bottom lip with a smirk… no wonder my man always has ulcers lol jk i have no idea how that actually works,, but you can never kiss him cuz his mouth hurts !! but he’s too hot for you to handle anyways so- sometimes he’ll be all seductive with that smirk after swiftly swiping his tongue over his lips and you have to literally take a moment to compose yourself before he wraps his hands around your waist, biting his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you,, oh my heart :’>
loves his dog too much… sure, loving layla taught him ways on how to love on his own future girl, but you didn’t realize how long it would take him to transfer the title of his most favourite girl from layla to you. you were always competing with a dog and yes, she’s cute but how was this fair?! so let’s just say it took many years of hard work and determination until you finally stole that hard earned title.
박성훈 ! SUNGHOON
doesn’t hang out with enough girls… so he has no experience when it comes to dating you. even before dating you, he was basically a total clutz. not being around girls enough made him feel nervous whenever he was around them due to lack of experience. and so whenever it came to you at first, he was always a nervous wreck and super awkward. and even after dating you, though he is so much better and confident, he still has his slip ups and tends to get super shy whenever you make him flustered (which occurs a lot more often than you’d imagine)! alexa play ‘super shy’ by newjeans 👖
too funny… he randomly comes out with these stupidly funny jokes or comments that make you laugh so hard, it makes your tummy, cheeks and lungs hurt. whenever you tell him you’re gonna die of laughter, you’re not joking.
김선우 ! SUNOO
too sassy… like why does he always have to react with his eye rolls or side eyes whenever you tease him, with that snarky scoff. and then when he’d tease you back, he’d just take the remarks to a whole other level. but occasionally this sass would be used in your favour; whenever a friend would tease you, he’d always get very defensive and have the best comebacks. actually depending on how close you two are with the friend, he once in a while would take the side of your friend and just tease you harder.
perfect figure… he outdoes you all the time. like sunoo give us ladies a chance to shine?? he’s always stealing the spotlight, it’s annoying sometimes !! 🙄 like yes, you (y/n) are always hot and super attractive (self confidence!!! you deserve to love yourself 😌) but for some reason people are always complimenting sunoo’s body instead of yours. but let me let you in on a little secret… it’s only because it’s obvious you’re the one who’s clearly more physically attractive. and who states the obvious these days anyway? hmph 😌
양정원 ! JUNGWON
too loveable… in other words,, there’s nothing to ever (playfully) hate on him with or tease him about !! so boring 👎👎👎 like you just constantly wanna love on him. he can be teasing you about an embarrassing moment of yours that happened just a couple minutes ago, and then you try to think of a comeback but then you take one glimpse into his eyes and suddenly you’re melting on the spot as your mind is wiped of everything you could’ve ever thought up in one quick moment. and suddenly you can only think about the things about him that give you warm, fluffy feelings. HE COULD BE DOING THE BARE MINIMUM AND YOURE FULL HEART EYES FOR HIM he’s just perfect. so unfair and so not fun 👎👎
duality… DOES HE EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT HE SHOULD HAVE YOUR HEART TO LOOK AFTER ???? like what about your well being ??? how about YOUR FEELINGS ???? like you’re constantly being emotionally pulled this way and that cuz one second he’ll be the cutest bf ever with his bread cheeks and fluffy smile when all of a sudden he has a dance to practice and all of a sudden he’s in performance mode, and his duality is just insane !!! is that even the same jungwonie that was with you just a second ago ???? i think not !!! smh
西村 力 ! NI-KI
too tall; doesn’t stop growing… (if he’s a lot taller than you) how are you gonna kiss him?? how is he gonna kiss you?? no but even if he isn’t a lot taller than you now, this boy doesn’t stop growing. you won’t admit it but it’s actually really romantic and hot the way he’d do things to match your heights, such as the other day when he carried you onto the counter, stood between your legs, and pressed his lips against yours in the hottest kiss you’ve ever shared. it’s simply not okay ???
too good of a dancer… outdoes you in every dance game. like riki at least give us a chance??? i mean sometimes he does, but the competitive side of him always wins and he just ends up beating you anyways like always 🙄 also getting to watch him on stage is like seeing a whole other riki. you mostly know him for his goofy personality, but whenever you get to see him perform, he switches that off and enters his alter ego and it has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. so you get the best of both worlds… which obviously isn’t healthy for your heart ???
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A/N | it takes only two seconds and a click to make your favourite writers’ day with a reblog. and if you want to take 30 extra seconds of your day to add even just the smallest comment, even just a few nice words of encouragement in your reblog or in the comments, those put the biggest smiles on our faces. let us know how you liked what you just read by telling us and showing us so we can continue putting out content that you can enjoy! thank you! <3
M.LIST | TAGLIST FORM
TAGLIST 1 | @seroriis @raimbows4u @beibybtch @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @forjaeyun @koishua @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @kookielover29 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @1unxtic @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @wonswondrland @malarign @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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the vees (individually or together) with a reader who plays guitar/an instrument? i love your vees x dom reader series!
The Vees x Musician Reader Headcanons —
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a/n — This is SO ME. Quick lore drop, I’ve played guitar and piano for about 6 years !!
warnings — very suggestive, the vees are horny little shits, technically didn’t clarify and instrument but guitar is kinda implied, also dom reader implied
summary — The Vees with a reader who plays an instrument.
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Vox would be very enthusiastic about your talent. The main reasons being that he can capitalize the hell out of it, and it’s incredibly hot to him. 
He would definitely offer, many, many times, to have you perform on air in front of an audience. He could get you into countless Voxtek talk shows, and game shows, all to have you perform. 
And yes, this does mean he gets to watch you play your instrument. Seeing your fingers move so fast, so gracefully, so precisely on beat, it definitely fucks with his head. He absolutely watches you practice on camera. And he is VERY SOCCER MOM LEVEL INVESTED in all of your performances, think episode eight Vox. 
Also, Vox canonically plays electric guitar. However, in recent years, with being a huge CEO, he hasn’t had much time for his hobby. So maybe you drag him off his ass and encourage him to play with you. He honestly forgot how much he enjoys it.
Velvette would probably have similar feelings to Vox. Like she would absolutely use your gift to her advantage. 
She would literally make you do music for her fashion shows. Live music just gives it an extra flare, and it’s especially fun for her to watch you indulge in your very attractive talent. 
Watching you have that much focus and put so much soul into something would literally get her going so fast. Like she doesn’t wait five seconds after the show to pull you away from the crowd and make out with you.
She would definitely request songs for you to play, just in every day life. Like pretty randomly too; she’d hear a song on tiktok and look over and be like, “Can you play that? Try.” 
Valentino would be very unapologetic in how horny your skillset makes him. Like it would be very unfortunate anytime he’s around and you’re playing.
He’d be all up on you, tracing his fingers up and down your back while you attempt to keep focus on your instrument. He’s making remarks the entire time, “Wow, you’re so talented with your hands, y/n. What else can they do?”
Also, yeah he’d attempt to have to play music for his pornos but… he gets very distracted and filming gets cut short. It happens every time, and yes, it is INCREDIBLY annoying and uncomfortable for you and everyone else.
If he heard someone say literally anything bad about the way you played, he would literally shoot whoever said it. Like on the spot, no thoughts, just boom. 
All the Vees would be all over you, if we’re going with my collective dom reader au. Like they’d go see you perform, and just bombard you with attention afterwards. 
Yes, they all got you different flowers and yes, before they compliment your performance they need to know who’s is your favorite. But then they are complimenting you left and right, it’s honestly probably overwhelming. But the thought is nice.
Well, usually. Sometimes the thought is who can get fucked by you first while you’re all sweaty and hyped up on adrenaline from the crowd. 
But they would literally have like front row seats, and be shouting out at anything mildly impressive riff you play. 
And if you play a love song, they’re all arguing about who that was directed at because they are all very convinced it’s themselves. 
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other Vees content here, here, and here !
Also plugging my ao3 account. If you like chaggie and music, you’ll like the fic i’m working on. I’m right here, for future reference.
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444rockstargf · 3 months
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so happy your requests are open tbfh, could you write something (for euro, he is so MEEEEOOWWW) about reader being a sibling of one of the other band members and they hate each other and then SEX!!
thats as specific as i can get i fear 😭 i love your work so much thanks for your time girl!!
thank you for the request babe! (this is absolutely scrumptious.)
"big, bad, naughty rock star." | euronymous
big bad wolf. - lana del rey
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt
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female!reader x r!euronymous
word count: 1.6k
contents: brother's best friend type relationship, tension, drinking, unprotected p in v, implications of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, not proofread!!!
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heavy metal music tore through the thin walls of your house, the noise from the basement sounding as deafening as ever from your bedroom. you were lying on your bed, eyes closed as vibrations filled your body.
you groaned, rolling off your bed as the pounding sensation in your head grew more intolerable by each passing second. truth be told, you had no problem with death metal. your brother was into it, so that automatically meant that it would rub off on you. but what you didn’t like was attention-hungry guitarists who didn’t know when to give the ear-piercing riffs a break.
you stormed down two flights of stairs, making your way to the source of the racket. you swung open the door, causing the music to come to an immiediate halt and all eyes to turn to you. euronymous’, or rather oystein’s gaze caught your eye first. it was icy and cold and bitter like the depths of the arctic.
you placed your hands on your hips, your friendly eyes turning to slits as you met his glare. “can you animals keep it down in here? i’d hate to fall asleep to your music and suddenly wake up in the pits of hell.” jan axel, your brother, smirked at your comment with a little chuckle. “no problem. we’d hate to interrupt your beauty sleep.” you swatted him off, turning and walking away from the atmosphere.
you felt a pair of predatory eyes on you the entire time, probably studying you. you had shown up in a lacy camisole top, tiny black shorts and white thigh-high socks with little pink bows on them, an outfit that would now be engraved in euronymous’ mind for the rest of time. he watched you walk up the stairs as his band continued playing, watching your ass jiggle with each step you took.
then he turned to your brother.
“why the fuck do you let her walk all over you like that? she bitches and whines like a goddamn 12 year old.” jan scoffs. “c’mon man, that’s my little sister. and you know she’s 18. you were even at that big birthday party of her’s, remember?”
oh yes, he remembered. the night you got blackout drunk and tried to lead him on, leading to a very sloppy hookup that also happened to be the night he lost his virginity, to you. but you didn’t remember any of this, and that was probably for the best. so all you viewed him as was that weird guy that hung out with your brother. 
euronymous rubbed a hand over his face. “she’s a fuckin’ brat, dude. and she dresses like a damn hooker. you can’t just let her do whatever the hell she wants around here. one way or another, it’ll ruin our band.” jan brushed him off. “whatever, man. she’s her own person. she’s a woman, so it’d be pretty fucked up for me to be bossing her around.” he flipped over his sheet music. “from the top.”
euronymous placed his guitar on it’s stand. “i’m grabbing a beer.” he muttered, making his way to the stairs and bolting up them. that’s when he saw you in the kitchen, squirting whipped cream into your mouth from the can. he felt heat pooling in his core from the sight. “oh, fuck me…” he muttered under his breath, making you turn your head to him.
“the grumpy old troll crawled out of his cave, hm?” you taunted. he rolled his eyes, spitting back a snarky response. “why don’t you crawl back into whatever fairytale you lept out from.” you snarled, the expression on your face making euronymous’ knees weak. you opened the fridge, putting the whipped cream back and grabbing a bottle of beer. the last one.
you started heading back to your room until you felt a calloused hand grip your wrist, pulling you back. “i was gonna take that.” his eyes bored into your soul, but you put on a fake-pout. “well that’s too bad.” you licked around the tip of the bottle, claiming your territory in attempt to disgust him enough to leave you alone. but his pupils dilated when he saw your pink tongue smear saliva across the bottle, awakening something primal in him.
you hopped up the stairs, giving him a view of your legs in such innocent yet provocative clothing. without thining, he followed you up, walking into your room behind you and pinning you to the door by your chest. your eyes widened as the door shut behind you, your heart hammering inside of your chest.
“what the hell are you doing, oystein? jan would murder you if he saw you doing this.” euronymous didn’t have anything to say to that, so his mouth gaped open slightly as he studied your features. you looked like if your brother was crossed with a cute little child’s doll. your eyes shimmered with intense emotion, and he imagined what they’d look like as they rolled to the back of his head while he fucked you. 
he watched the top of your breasts rise and fall with each heavy breath you took, feeling a very familiar sensation in his jeans. one that he always felt whenever he saw you. he shook himself back to reality, plucking the beer out of your hand. “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking this. besides, you’re a kid.” your cheeks puffed up with anger. “you’re like 6 months older than me, asshole.”
he shrugged, leaning against your wall and taking a large swig of beer, looking around your bedroom. as pink and girly as it was, it all became much more lewd the longer he looked. there were bras and panties slung across almost every surface, smutty books filling your bookshelves, and a pretty pink vibrator that failed to be hidden underneath your pillow.
euronymous smirked, walking toward your bed and picking it up, switching it on. “well what do we have here?” your breath left your lungs as he held it, quickly rushing up to him and snatching it. “dont touch that!” he laughed bitterly, looking you right in the eye. “so turns out princess bubblegum’s a fucking whore.” you felt your cheeks heating up as he continued to speak.
“did you get to cum, dolly? or was the sound of real music too much for your pretty little ears?” you opened your drawer, tossing the vibrator into it and slamming it shut. then you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and throwing you onto your bed.
everything was happening too fast for you, but the next thing you knew euronymous was on top of you, your faces less than an inch apart as his tone turned into one of lust and desire. “i asked you a question, angel. did that stupid toy make you cum?” you gulped, your core starting to drip from the words he spoke.
you shook your head, causing him to smile. he pushed your legs apart, letting himself in between them and pressing his burning erection onto your clothed pussy, making you gasp. he trailed his hand down your body, his fingers slithering under the waistband of your shorts and stopping at your panties, feeling the sopping wet mess underneath the thin, lacy fabric.
your limbs turned to jelly as a moan slipped from your lips. he began to rub slow circles onto your hard clit, feeling it’s throbbing response.he used his other hand to slip of your shorts, then your panties, taking off your clothes layer by layer until only your socks were left. but he left those on. he thought they were a nice touch.
one thing led to another, and he was pounding into you from behind, his fingers shoved down your throat as he stretched out your tiny little pussy with his monstrous cock.
your back arched as he pressed you into the mattress, feeding on your desperate moans and whimpers like a starved beast. “like that, doll? is that the spot?” he cooed, obviously mocking you. you were a sobbing mess, your mascara running down your face as you drooled around his large fingers.
he looked down at you from where he was, watching your ass bounce with each hard thrust. he watched the curve of your back as his dick made you lose all control of your senses. you would never admit it to him, but he made you feel much better than that stupid vibrator did.
“i-im cumming, oystein..!” you managed to cry out, his finger muffling your words. you had gushed and creamed and squirted around him so many times by now that you had lost count. but body was weak beyond its limits, but he refused to stop. he just kept on pushing, his deep, hoarse groans eoching through your bedroom walls.
he landed a harsh slap onto your bruised ass, making you yelp. his thrusts began to lose their composure as he spoke, his voice breaking. “c-can you cum f’me one more time, baby… can you do that for me..?” you nodded frantically, tears rolling down your face and staining your bedsheets.
his cock throbbed inside of your pulsating hole, creating a wet and sticky mess as cum poured down your thighs and stomach. and then he began to shout, his voice coming out as a booming roar. “goddamnit!” he forced himself all the way in, making your heart stop for a moment as he filled you up with his molten hot cum. he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, his groans turning into little whimpers before he pulled out, shooting a few last ropes onto your arched back.
you laid there, panting like a dog as the realization hit you. your brother’s best friend had just fucked you. the one that you had never gotten along with. the one who swore he’d kill himself if you ever got a man to touch you. the one who longed for the day that he’d finally get to claim a pure soul like yours as his own. and now, he’d finally done it. again.
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author's note: i ran to write this as soon as I got the request. goodnight yall :))
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snowwybear · 3 months
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𝗣𝗢𝗩: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿
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warnings: fluff
Vinnie wasn't familiar with your music, his friend had an extra ticket and asked if he would like to tag along. Lining up in the queue he could tell he was out of place; everyone was dressed up and here he was in a jacket and jeans. His friend was buzzing with excitement and kept rambling on about you, all Vinnie could do was smile and nod. He honestly wasn't expecting much.
That opinion changed once he heard you, once he saw you. You had the voice of an angel, the audience latching onto every note you sang. Every bridge and chorus sounded like it was coming from your soul. The way your body moved was like it was in one with the music. Your hips swayed with every guitar riff and your fist pumped with every hit of the bass drum. He was enchanted by you. He wasn't paying much attention to the lyrics; it didn't matter anyway all he could focus on was you.
You locked eyes with him for a moment, before sending a wink his way. His heart fluttered a little and then a great big smile entered his face. He was transported back to the concert, the cheers and screaming. You had the audience in the palm of your hands. Your passion radiated off of your body. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, and lucky for him you couldn't either. Every so often you would glance his way, checking to see if he was having a good time. He was focused on you and only you, until he wasn't.
You gave one final bow and just like that it was over, you disappeared like a figment of everyone's imagination. Vinnie and his friend walked out of the venue, gushing about the night when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was an Instagram notification. It was from you!
I knew I recognized you, I hope you had fun tonight ;)
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redstarwriting · 1 year
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the clash | iii. black planet
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 2.5k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, needles mentioned, slight injury from said needle
a/n: is this one long? yes. do i care? no because it was fun to write. it was 3 am when i finished this and make this a draft, so you know i had fun with this chapter. also, i’m about to go into work, so i will probably not be here but i wanted to post it beforehand so i can just worry about working on chapter iv later. and just wanna say i’m grateful to everyone who is reading and interacting with the posts! this has been such a warm welcome back into writing for the marvel universe and i appreciate each and every one of you :)🖤 also i have a question, feel free to answer in the comments or pm me, do i go all the way in the angst for this, or only some angst?
now reading: iii. black planet
previous chapter: ii. time bomb
next chapter: iv. london calling
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You open a portal to your world, and dramatically motion everyone inside. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr step into it, and you glance at Hobie. “Are you actually coming, then?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says sarcastically, stepping into the portal. You enter last, walking until you’re in the familiar darkness of your apartment. “Welcome to my home,” you say, going to your kitchen to get a glass of water. As you’re pouring, you hear one of your guests speak up. “Is that… a real skull…?” Pavitr asks, pointing to a human skull above your fireplace mantle. “Sure is. She’s my aunt,” you say, taking a sip of water. They all look at you with a look that reads ‘is it… that aunt?’
You nod.
It isn’t brought up again.
Hobie sees a vinyl player and immediately walks over to it. He observes the multiple albums and singles and then comes across vinyls that don’t look like they belong to any band in particular. “You press your own vinyl?”
“Obviously. There’s just something better about vinyl than listening to it on my phone, so I press my own playlists,” you say, and Hobie glances up at you. “It sounds more real. Scratches and all, makes it feel authentic,” he says, placing a record on your player and placing the needle on it surprisingly gently. You raise your eyebrow at him. ‘Of course he would get the record thing,’ you think to yourself, ‘he is a guitarist after all.’
“I totally agree,” Gwen says, and you nod. Musician things. Ambient sounds accompanied by faint guitar riffs fill the room. You nod in approval. This is one of your favorite songs. Gwen smiles. “Your place is so fucking cool, (Y/n),” she says, walking over to the crystal ball and various tarot decks you have set up on your kitchen table. “Thanks, I take pride in it,” you say and Hobie makes a noise. “Could be better. Tell me, do you consider any color? Ever? Like what the fuck kind of plants are these that they’re all black?”
“They’re called Raven ZZ plants, and actually, they’re a bright green when new leaves sprout, but no. Color is not for me. The only reason I have the tiniest bit of pastel pink on my spider suit is because I need to continue to throw people off my scent.”
“How d’you reckon a tiny splash a’ color will do that?”
“There are various different types of goth. If I only used my own style, it would make the likelihood of me being me much higher than I would like,” you explain, and Miles looks around. “So… this place haunted?” he asks and you grin. “Yes.”
“Ghosts aren’t fuckin’ real.” Hobie scoffs, and he has to bite back a laugh at how quickly you turn your head to him. He actually does believe in ghosts, just a tiny bit, but doing anything to piss you off has become his new motto. Even if he has to lie.
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make one of them possess you,” you say icily, and a cold breeze rolls through the room and blows out some of the candles. Pavitr shrieks and jumps into Miles’ arms. Gwen mutters something about that being ‘so cool.’ Hobie looks virtually unimpressed and you two glare at each other until you all get an all too familiar feeling of danger. You all turn your head toward your balcony, and you see an explosion in the distance. “Fuck,” you mumble, jumping into action immediately. You pull your mask on, and jump without a second thought. It’s a new thing when you glance over and see Hobie right by you. “Was that a bomb? Who could that be?” Miles asks and you sigh. “Probably the Green Goblin,” you say, and Hobie opens his mouth to say another sarcastic remark but is cut off when he gets to observe what your swinging is like.
You literally move like the wind. It’s fluid and smooth in nature, and he pays special attention to how you barely make noise when you land on a building to run. It’s actually impressive, and it makes him lose whatever rude comment he thought of. It’s the complete opposite of how he is. Erratic and loud. He doesn’t know whether to respect it or make fun of you for it later. Probably the latter. “Hey (Y/n)? Is the sky normally this dark? I thought it was like 6pm,” Pavitr asks as you all swing and you nod. “The sun is only out for like 2-3 hours a day here,” you respond. “Damn a little sunlight never killed anybody,” Miles says, and you shrug. “Honestly, here it might.”
“Is that why you’re so moody and negative? Only light you get is from the moon?” Hobie asks and you roll your eyes. “Actually, I was born that way. My style of living has nothing to do with my moodiness and realistic outlook,” you shoot back, emphasizing the point of realistic and not negative. He just shakes his head.
You all arrive at the location the explosive went off, and you notice there are still people inside the parking garage that was hit. “We’re on it!” Gwen says, motioning for Pavitr and Miles to follow her. The three of them take off in an instant, and you keep your eyes peeled and ears open to hear the wings of the Green Goblin’s glider. Hobie hangs back, not saying anything for once in his life. Until he gets an uneasy feeling. “Something’s close.”
“I know, idiot, I have the sense too.”
“I was just sayi–”
He’s cut off by a tiny bag of… powder… being thrown between the two of you. You both leap out of the way immediately before it explodes. “Found you!” Hobie hears a maniacal laugh, “Ohhhh and you brought a friend!” The Green Goblin of your universe giggles, and he realizes that the glider she’s on is a giant taxidermy bat accessorized with mechanical elements making it able to fly again. “Not their friend,” he yells at the Goblin before addressing you, “What the actual fuck is ‘at?” Hobie yells and you sigh. “That’s the Green Goblin of my universe, she’s a fucking lunatic who wants to turn me into a taxidermy sculpture and sell me at an art auction.”
“She an Osborn?”
“Yes, Harriet Osborn,” you say, dodging another… bomb? Hobie honestly doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. “Well, I’ve killed one Osborn already, what’s another,” he says, and you make a gasping noise. “Oh no… don’t tell me…”
“We can’t kill Harriet!”
“Why the fuck not?! She’s tryna kill you!”
“Because of personal reasons! You’re not about to come into my world, and kill my villains, asshole!” you scream, and he groans. “Fuckin’ fine. Whatever, we take her down, we don’t kill her,” he says, and you nod. “I take her down. Like I have countless times before.”
“Uh uh uh, I’m here for a reason, we take her down.”
“Gods, fine. Whatever,” you huff and the both of you dodge another explosive. You point to Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr who are motioning to you that they got everyone out of the garage. Without speaking, the two of you develop a plan. You immediately web into the garage, going down to the bottom floor. Of course, your Goblin follows you, completely disregarding Hobie even being there. He follows behind. It’s dark in here, all the lighting has gone out inside and the black sky outside makes it difficult to see. You use the stealth he observed earlier to your advantage. Even he has trouble picking out where you are, and he has super senses. He makes his way to a pillar that supports the garage as quietly as he can, which, luckily, is quiet enough that he goes unnoticed. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he hears in a sing-songy voice.
He carefully picks up a rock and glances around the garage. He’s behind a pillar that will help bring the whole thing down, he just needs to deduce which of the other pillars will assist in that. Lucky for him, you’re there too. He hears a noise behind one of the pillars, and sure enough, an explosion soon follows. He quickly realizes where the other weak points are and throws a rock at one of the others. Boom. Explosion. And then one more. He glances to his left to see you right next to him. You both nod at each other, and he hits a power chord. You roll your eyes. “A little flashy, don’t you think,” you say as the two of you leap out of the way and there’s one more explosion. “Not flashy enough, love,” he responds as the garage starts to shake.
The two of you expertly navigate the falling rocks as you make your way out of the collapsing building. Right when you get out, your eyes widen, and you twist your body so the glider doesn’t impale you. You land on top, and the Goblin turns around. Half of her mask is broken and she’s bleeding from being hit by one of the rocks. You can tell the glider was hit, too, because it seems to be stalling every now and again. It does get you farther away from your spider-companions, but they start webbing after you. “Found you,” she says. “No shit, Harriet. It only took you demolishing ONE building to do it this time, feels like a new personal record for you,” you respond, and she throws a punch at you. You dodge, and then see her pull out an unnecessarily large taxidermy needle. “Ah, shit,” you mumble as she starts wielding it like a dagger. You’re able to dodge most of her attacks, but the last one grazes your side. You hiss and realize she put another attempt of a knockout serum on it as well. Great. She laughs.
“Stupid spider! I didn’t need to stab you; I just needed a little graze! See, I put a special kind of toxin on my needle, and now it–” She gets knocked out by a single punch to the face. “You talk way too damn much, girl,” you mumble, webbing her to the side of a building as she falls off her glider. Oh shit. The glider. You leap off, despite the pain in your side and the woozy feeling that’s starting to show up and web the glider. You then go water skiing without the water. Or the skiis. And on the road. Oops.
You do your best to control the glider, swerving between cars and making sure it doesn’t run into any of the skyscrapers in downtown Night of Yore City. That’s when you realize it’s about to run straight into a building. You narrow your eyes. It’s time to do your Spider thing. You yank back on the glider, causing it to stall. You leap up onto the side of a building, detaching three webs onto it and leaping to the other one. You repeat until a full spiderweb is formed, blocking the glider’s way to the building, and repeat so it’s underneath the glider as well. You quickly web up the giant claws of the taxidermy bat, ensuring they can’t cut through your webs, and wrap the glider up, swinging around it in a circle. You attach the end of the web to the big spider web you just made and watch it slow down even more. It goes into the web in front of the building, and slightly indents into it, but that’s the further it gets.
You crouch on a lamppost, watching to make sure nothing bad happens. When you’re positive everything’s fine, you stand. A few citizens yell some thanks you’s, more glare at you because you just ruined their day, and some just ignore you completely. You look up and see the four other Spider-People chilling on the side of a building. You quickly join them. “Never seen someone make a web that fast and efficiently,” Gwen says, motioning to the web you wove. You shrug. “Thank you.”
“Unfortunate a buildin’ had to come down in the process,” Hobie says, not giving you a break or any type of praise. You roll your eyes. “Let’s not forget you were part of the reason the building came down.”
“I could have done it without the destruction.”
“Like you would have.”
“I wouldn’t have, but I could have. Obviously, you couldn’t,” he says, and you flip him off as you all begin webbing back to your apartment. Once you get there, you assess the damage the needle did to you. Some weird green toxin was in the cut, and you sigh. “Wait, (Y/n), that looks kind of serious,” Gwen says, noting the discoloration of the toxin compared to your skin. You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. She keeps trying to make a knock-out serum to use on me. None of them are strong enough,” you affirm, the slight wooziness you had felt earlier is completely gone. Now you just need to wash and dress this, and it should be healed by morning. “Or maybe she’s just a shit chemist.”
“Thank you, Hobie, for your doubt that I’m a capable Spider-Person,” you say, and he nods at you. “Always.”
You get out your first aid kit and clean your wound up. It stings, and you wince, and the others know that feeling all too well. “Right, well now that we’ve seen this gloomy, depressin’, dark ass world, why don’t we go see an actual fun world, eh?” Hobie says, starting to press some buttons on his watch. “Go to your world? What so I can be blown away with too loud amps and catch on fire because some dumbass thinks they can make a flamethrower with some sort of cleaning spray and a lighter? No thanks,” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes. “Not like I want you there anyways, love,” he says. You hate this new nickname he’s picked for you. It’s not endearing, it’s annoying. And he knows that it bothers you. You angrily put your first aid kit down and glare at him. “Fine. But hold on one second.”
You scale your wall and reach into an impossibly high cupboard, pulling out some cat food. Suddenly, the four spiders see two bright green eyes in the darkness of what appears to be your bedroom. You fill up a bowl, and your black cat saunters over to you. You pet his head, giving him a few scritches between the ears, his favorite spot. Hobie’s grateful you’re preoccupied with your cat because he does not need you to see the expression on his face. He loves cats. Especially black cats, they’re a perfect symbol of rebellion. Maybe he’ll come back here one day but only for your cat. ONLY.
“Alright, now that you’ve fed the cat, can we please leave? I can feel my soul bein’ sucked out of my body the longer I stand here,” Hobie says, impatiently, and you roll your eyes. “That’s the ghosts doing that, you know.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
───────────────────────────────
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*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue
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Text
the girl next door 29
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You peel off the suit and wring it out. You leave it in the bathroom to dry, but more so you don't need to look at it. You've never been so humiliated in all your life. 
Worse than your mother's bitter grumbles, or the way your grandmother used to nitpick at every part of you was that look in Steve's eyes. It was like nothing you've ever seen before. Not angry, not judging, but something mysterious that unsettled you. 
Ugh. You sneer at the wall as you pull on the baggiest tee shirt you have. You hate yourself. No, you hate your body. No matter what you do, it's clumsy and somehow you get in the way of yourself. 
You shimmy into a pair of pajama shorts and flop onto your bed. You could read but your head won't let you focus. Drawing isn't an option either, you're still shaking from the exposure. 
Sleep. Well, that won't come. Every time you close your eyes, you just see Steve and the water, and your nakedness. You can't imagine what your mother would've said if she'd saw. 
She hadn't, had she? 
You roll over and hide your head under your arm. You just lay there, desperate to escape somehow. The hours wear on, the day shifting around your unmoving form, the stagnant house dampening your skin with sweat.  
When you finally get the strength to flip onto your back, you realise you've been crying. You sniffle and mop your cheeks. You don't know why you're crying. Humiliation, sure, but don't be such a baby. 
You sit up cradle your head until it's a little less fragile. You get to your feet and shuffle out to use the bathroom. You pointedly ignore the pink checkered fabric. 
When you're done, you go to the kitchen. You look in the fridge. Not much there. You take out an old cup of pudding and fish out a spoon. You sit at the table and stir it but don't eat.  
You remember when you were a kid, your grandma would give you tapioca. Your mother only ever got banana. You hate banana pudding. It tastes so artificial. 
You're not a kid anymore. You're realising that now. It's time to be an adult. You don't have a place here anymore. Your mom has Steve and you have... nothing. 
The front door whines on its ungreased hinges. You wince and look up, shove a spoonful into your mouth. 
Steve appears. He has a tee on but still wears his swim shorts. You look at him dully and swallow, scooping up more of the pudding. 
"You hungry? You could have come over for lunch." 
You shrug and keep eating. Your stomach sickens at the overly sweet treat. You want to spit it out. 
"You're still mad?" He asks. 
You shrug again. 
He sighs. He crosses the room and pulls out the chair across from you, "look, sweetie," he twines his fingers through each other as he rests his arms on the table, "I'm real sorry. I was trying to have some fun. I made a mistake. We all do, right?" 
You stare at the table and nod. 
"Right, so can we move past it? Forget it ever happened?" 
"Forget?" You echo in a croak. "Erm." 
"Wiped clean," he unweaves his fingers and makes a smooth motion over the table top. "How about it? Can you forgive me?" 
You let the spoon go and slide the cup aside. You can't look up. It's more than the embarrassment of what happened. It's the constant shame that follows you around. You're just a hanger-on. He doesn't have to keep pretending because of your mom. She deserves to have a life after all the years she wasted on you. A life without you. 
"I'm sorry. I'm... I'm going to find a job and I'll do my best and..." you ramble as you trace your fingers on the table and tilt your head back and forth, "and you won't have to worry about me." 
"Sweetie?" He reaches over to still your hand, "what are you talking about?" 
"I shouldn't be... I shouldn't be living with you. Or mom. You two... I'm in the way--" 
"In the way? Sweetie," he squeezes your hand, "I promise you that's not true." 
"It has to be." 
"Why? Why does that have to be true?" 
"Because no one wants me," you turn your face down but he won't let go of your hand so you can hide. 
"I know that's not true," he insists.  
"It is. You see it. My mom..." you shudder and hold back a sob, "hates me." 
He's quiet. He clings to you even as you try to pull free. "I don't hate you." 
"You barely know me." 
"Sweetie, I know enough. Just enough to know you're a sweet girl. A good girl. All this time you've been taking care of your mom. Not anyone does that, you know? Most people would just leave her behind," he brings his other hand up to pet your knuckles, "and you're considerate and kind and gentle." 
"Please," you wisp and tug on your hand again, "you don't have to--" 
"I want you," he interjects as he tightens his grip, "sweetie, look at me." 
Your eyes flick up, startled by his hold and his tone. 
"You said no one wants you? I do. I shouldn't. I know it. I... I saw the way you take care of Holly, I saw how hard you try, I saw it all and I--" 
He finally lets you go. You recoil, shocked. Your hand tingles and your heart races. He doesn't mean it like that. He can't. You blink and lean back, making yourself as small as you can. 
"I'm sorry," he drops his head into his hands, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm trying not to feel like this. I've been fighting myself but..." he looks up, fingers stretched up his cheeks as his eyes glimmer, "I... don't love your mom. I only married her so... so..." he closes his eyes and trembles, "I shouldn't say it." His lashes flick open and he sits up straight, "so I could take care of you. That's why. But I couldn't... be honest. Because I didn't want to scare you or lose you. Just having you close is enough so I lied." He sniffs and a tear rolls out, "worse, I couldn't even be honest with myself. Not until now. Until it's too late." 
You gape at him. He just watches you. His expression is pained and sheepish.  
"Please, sweetie, say something." 
"You can't mean it," you breathe, "please take it back." 
"I can't," he utters. 
You sit in silence. You don't know what to say. You can't think. It's all too much. Why can't today just be over? 
He inhales and lets it out as he fixes his posture. He gulps thickly and you look up. He stares at you. The same look as before. The one you don't understand. 
"Sweetie," his voice is firmer and his tears are evaporated, "I have one question." You lower your brow, confused, "do you want your mom to be taken care of?" 
"What?" You squeak. 
"Your mom? You want her to be comfortable? Supported? Get the proper treatment?" He's staunch as he speaks, "you can't do it yourself. We both know you were struggling. Do you got the money for her next hospital stay? For the nurse?" 
You whimper and shake your head, "what do you mean?" 
"Sweetie, your mom needs me. You need me. Don't play dumb," he intones, "I will do anything. I will make sure mom is nice and cozy. She has her meds and everything she needs. There's only one thing I want in return." He clicks his tongue and inclines his head, "it's too bad it's the only thing you got." 
You stare at him. Through him. The whole world narrows in on you as your chest caves in. You close your eyes, wishing against everything, that it can make him go away. 
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powderblueblood · 5 months
Note
Ooooh lacy falls asleep watching a movie with eddie and he hears her having a sex dream
an: LMAO I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! alright MINORS DNI i have no problem sending swarms of bees to your houses and also warning for somnophilia (kinda) and hands free ejaculation
first of all, who the hell falls asleep during the warriors?!
the gramercy riffs have just dedicated 'nowhere to run' by arnold mcculler to the warriors and shit is about to go down and your head is bobbing forward on eddie's worn-out couch.
he rolls his eyes at you-- really? "hey." a finger jabs at your knee from the opposite sagging end of the couch. "wakey-wakey. it's just about to get good over here."
"mm-- i'm awake!" you jump, but your eyes barely flicker back open, lashes all heavy and voice all loopy.
"tough day at the office?"
"you would not believe." he watches you struggle to muffle a yawn and pinch your cheeks to liven yourself up. "christmas returns. you remember all those old men that kept coming in and buying copies of the joy of sex?"
eddie guffaws lightly. "uh-huh."
"well, today i met their wives."
eddie mouths a little 'oh no!' and you chorus back 'oh yeah!' and even then, with your cheek shoved against the heel of your hand, he can see you're struggling for consciousness.
"lie down," he tells you. your brow furrows, because you're always more stubborn than tired.
"but the movie--" "fuck the movie. well, no, it's a great movie but just-- take a load off."
you sit up a touch straighter and eddie's about to give you shit about always being such a little pushback. but then you decide, "okay. just for a sec."
what he doesn't expect is for your head to land in his lap.
i mean, couches, opposite ends, you could have cozied yourself up against the slouching arm, but no. you decided to stretch yourself forward and settle with your head basically in his crotch. facing the ceiling. facing him.
eddie's breath shallows as you look up at him, your expression the closest thing to peaceful he's maybe ever seen you. you don't even have that little hitch between your eyebrows you sport like a uniform. looks like that night in his trailer, when he hid you away in his bedroom, which-- look, memory lane is not on the agenda for tonight.
"do me a favor?" you say, and your voice is this cracked little purr.
your hand blindly tugs at his, resting it on the crown of your head. oh. right. that hair petting thing. that thing he gets you to do when you're not being such a pill or he's worn you out from being such a pill. you're so nice with your fingers, see, pressing them against his scalp in a way that makes his whole body shiver. scratching a little sometimes-- a little too harsh sometimes, which makes him cringe away. but not because it hurts. because it... does other things.
eddie sighs, like it's really putting him out, like you do, and slides his fingers into your hair. but that's nothing compared to the sigh you let out.
fuck you. how can one little puff of air make him want to flip you over and mount you?
but he's trying to be normal about this-- he's trying so hard, because you're friends, right?
he doesn't think before he says it. "that feel good?"
"mm-hm," you mumble, hand sliding across your stomach, tucking under your breasts, getting comfortable. "mm-hm... careful of your rings, though."
"i'll be... i'll be careful."
"thanks, eddie." your fingers rise to brush against his tummy, some physical acknowledgement of gratitude that he's sure you mean as like, a nudge on the shoulder or a slap on the back or a high five or a fist bump but it sure as fuck doesn't feel like that.
especially when your fingers stay there, suspended in position as you've fallen asleep almost instantly. like stick a fork in you, you're done.
which is a relief. because less movement from you means less focus on you, which means eddie can pretend to watch the movie and pray away the halfsie that is nestled at the back of your skull.
problem is, you're awfully hard to stop looking at.
as your breathing deepens, his fingers slow and he just... watches you. the ascent and descent of your chest. the soft flicker behind your eyelids. the way your mouth parts ever-so-slightly. you're exhausted, but you're relaxed and he-- alright, fucking shoot him, he feels a little responsible for that? a little proud, okay? you're never relaxed. you're so high strung and sharp, but the edges of that seem to dull around him a touch. especially on nights like these.
eddie finally deludes himself into chilling out enough to tune back into the warriors, and then you make a sound.
it's a soft one, but enough to pucker your lips out of shape.
"ohmm."
eddie freezes, jaw winching. your fingers flick involuntarily against his stomach-- a twitch. a very dangerous twitch.
you make another noise and fuck him, if it doesn't sound like the first delicious note of a whimper. oh god.
and his fingers are still tangled in your hair. ruffling a little, breathing out heavily through his nose, he goes, "lace-- lacy," but it's zero response from you. just a hitch in those eyebrows.
and so lazily, so feline, he feels you sleepily nudge into his touch. if he didn't know any better (he doesn't, for the record, he's never known anything in his life other than this moment, if you really want to know), he'd think that was a sign to... keep going.
digits move against your scalp and he watches, unblinking, as your lips part. a sigh flies out, and not the kind you make when you're fed up with him, not the kind you make when you get a less-than-perfect grade or snag your tights or have a headache... not that kind.
different. sweet. the way he though you might sound, once all those defenses were smashed down. how much is it to rent a bulldozer.
his dumbass, age-old pajama pants are tightening by the second and they don't hide a fuckin' thing. how are you not feeling this.
well, whether you are or you aren't, he's still moving his fingers through your hair and you seem to like that and he's so, so happy, like he's so, so stoked but-- watching the breath hitch in your chest, watching the way your tits kind of slope out of the neckline of your shirt, watching goosebumps flash across your skin.
jesus christ, he can see your nipples through that thin little top you're wearing. tight and pointed, an illusion through the slinky cotton and binding of your bra.
eddie's teeth tighten into his bottom lip, his free hand gripping the back of the couch. this symphony of quiet, broken sounds coming out of you is a full extended play in and of itself, and he wants you on repeat. forever.
your hips lift the tiniest fraction. your fingers, still curled up by his belly, stretch and catch at his t-shirt.
"oh, fuck," eddie breathes, hoping he's quiet enough.
he's doing everything, and he means everything, not to move his hips even one iota even though his cock is crying out-- crying out for you, for your hands, for your mouth, for the crook of your fucking arm, anything so long as it's you.
"mmnm," you mumble, completely unaware, thighs rubbing off one another.
aching. dashing a wet spot right under your pretty, brilliant, terrifying, pretty head.
oh, fucking wake up-- feel me-- but don't, because what if the illusion shatters, what if the bubble bursts, what if you see him for the filthy fucking pervert that he is, getting off on watching you sleep. stroking your hair, making you make those noises-- the fucking sounds coming from those pouted, pillowy lips of yours.
he throbs, and your other hand jerks up to your chest, and his thumb strokes the right side of your skull and you moan. full-bodied. almost real.
it's so dangerous. he wants to turn you over and plunge his cock past your smartass mouth and weaken immediately because you're you and he's him and he will end up begging you to let him gloss your lips with his cum.
too much! way too much! eddie has to bite down on the shoulder of his own shirt as his body tenses, his balls tighten, his vision blacks out--
his eyes squeeze shut, hand freezing on your head. moisture spreads like guilt across his conscience.
fuck. fuck. fuckfuckfuck!
eddie's eyes snap open and he doesn't waste a second of time. he grabs you by the shoulders and shoves you up and away from him.
"wmwhatthefuck--" "--gotta piss. move."
but he sorely underestimates just how dizzy he's going to be when he stands up. he stumbles to the bathroom like keith richards getting off a ride at six flags.
"eddie?" you huskily mumble after him, and he's like, ready to kill you. ready to kill you. ready to give you a home lobotomy so you never say his name all needy and crackly and lovely like that ever again.
when he eventually slinks back, different pants on this time, you give them a pointed look. you're all criss-cross applesauce on the couch and he, like, fucking hates you and wants to carry you to his bedroom bridal style and tear off your panties in a single mouthful.
"costume change?" you ask.
"you snore like a coal miner, you know that?"
eddie's never wanted to fuck a coal miner before.
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writers-reach · 3 months
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I have a request for joker (could you use akira for the name please).
Something like his s/o is also in the phantom thieves and when they are in safe rooms she likes to do small braids in his hair, also while chilling out at leblanc maybe :3
Might be a silly request but I thought it was cute, have a great day!
persona 5: playing with his hair (akira kurusu/ren amamiya)
notes: akira kurusu for protag, fluff, fem!reader, reader is a phantom thief, this might be sliiightly inaccurate since i haven't touched p5 in a while and idc to check myself
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you were grinding through mementos one day with the rest of the phantom thieves, and things were going pretty well! shadows were being slain, treasure was being looted, and you were overall having a fun time riding around in morgana's van form.
you were grateful, though, for makoto's recent membership of the team. she was better at driving the van than akira was (bless his heart), which meant she took the wheel while akira sat in the passenger's seat, telling her where to go.
you sat behind him in the second row of seats, often leaning your head on the seat in front of you, sometimes babbling to get akira's attention. he'd always reach back to ruffle your hair or playfully offset your mask.
but your attention always drifted to his hair - his soft and undoubtedly fluffy head of black feathery hair. you'd been together for a while, so physical interactions weren't uncommon, but you've never really asked him if you could play with his hair.
you really, really wanted to play with his hair. holy shit, you wanted nothing more than to do that. but now wasn't the right time, being in mementos and all. you'd have to strategise for another time.
thankfully, that time came when after leaving mementos, akira invited you back to leblanc to destress and chill out. he'd make some coffee, you two would chat and cuddle, probably watch some tv.
you accepted, obviously, and taking his hand in yours, led you through the subway system to yongen-jaya and to leblanc. after pouring the two of you a damn good cup of coffee, you two went upstairs to his room in the attic.
after watching a few episodes of that cheesy action show you two like to riff on (and getting the neo featherman r theme song stuck in your head), you two migrated to his bed. akira sat down and extended his arms, inviting you in for a spooning sesh, but you waved your hands in denial.
after a puzzled and slightly pouty look from your boyfriend, you clarified what you meant: "i wanna be big spoon. i kinda... wanna play with your hair? is that cool?"
akira's eyes lit up and he adjusted his glasses that slipped down his face. a slightly goofy grin played across his lips and he shuffled on the bed, allowing you to slot yourself behind him.
"yeah, sure! go right ahead."
you quickly got to work, running your hands through his hair (which was still surprisingly soft and felt like heaven's clouds within your fingertips). you twirled some strands around your digits here and there and massaged his scalp.
akira leaned his head back into your touch, smiling all the while. you could've sworn you heard him purring (maybe that was your imagination, or maybe he was spending too much time with morgana).
you pressed a kiss to the side of his temple and kept playing with his hair long into the night...
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a/n: cat-coded joker ftw!!! also i love writing akira being more, like, a dork? i love his canon characterisation in the anime and it's not something i see often. you'll be seeing more silly goofy joker from me if y'all request it lmao
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ioniansunsets · 7 months
Note
I JUST FOUND YOUR BLOG AND OMG
hey imma need that confession Heartsteel Kayn moment yannoooo… fr all I’ve been thinking about 😳😳😳
✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Confessing ✖
✖ Word Count: 1.2k
✖ Tags: Awkward Confessions
✖ A/N: Reader here is just someone who works at his studio! He met you as Heartsteel slowly begun to start out and get ready for debut. Also writing this with that one ask about him writing a song about this exact moment in mind. Heehee!
I was reading some fanfics on my side and got filled with so much adrenaline and emotions I spat this out. I got very very very carried away writing this. I hope its not too OOC. Thank you for asking for this, I couldn't stop thinking about writing it.
----
It sucked. It fucking sucked. The way his heart raced when you were near.
The loud thumping against his chest. He hated it.
He hated how vulnerably and un-badass it made him feel. How the high he got from you rivaled that of the stage.
How your voice played over and over in his mind more than any melody he knew. How your laughter made his knees weak. It made Him. Weak!
He hated. He loathed. He grunts in frustration as he rocks out hard on his guitar. Fingers picking at the strings, a sick solo riff but it was for no one but himself.
Oh, how he did arguably stupider things than usual when he saw you watching. Showing off to you he jumped off a stage once. Which is not too far off from usual but it was to no audience! It was during a practice run! He did it just to flex to you that he was cool! Fucking embarrassing to remember but he did! All because you were standing nearby! How could you do such a thing to him!
The absolute frustration he was filled with. Not pent up rage, not a craving for violence and destruction, but affection? Undeniable. Overflowing. Drowning and choking him. Affection!
He finally threw his guitar on the ground. Breathing heavy. Hands running through his hair to push away the hair that has fell to his face in his little jam session. Hands wiping away the sweat. No matter how long he played, how fast his fingers pressed the strings, how frantically he strummed away. How he still played, chipping his painted nails when he slips up and drops his pick. The loud music of his electric guitar couldn't drown out the high BPM beat of his heart going off in his ears. The mental image of you smiling and waving at him every time he shows up. The tingle in his fingertips imagining himself holding you.
Swallowing hard, he storms out of the studio. He was at his fucking limit and refused to deal with this flip flop of emotions any longer. A cold shower. He calms down. Tomorrow. At the studio when he goes in to record. He'll find you then. He'll go early before the rest of the band gets there. He'll get this done and over with. Enough hours were spent being a mess about you. He was going to get this done! Tossing and turning in bed for hours he finally falls asleep. Tomorrow, he'll confess.
xxxx
The next day came soon enough. Making sure he looked good, makeup on, hair styled nicely, a sexy ass outfit with his deliciously sculpted abs out. Not the usual for when he goes to the studio but if he was going to be confessing? Perfect. Yes he was perfect in his own eyes but still, his heart raced. Small whispers of Rhaast in his mind, telling him they might reject him, that he was someone that needed nobody, he shouldn't go up to them and say anything, the frustration was so good for his music! But still, he walked on. Boots hitting the floor at the same pace of his rapidly beating heart as he walks up to you. You heard him before you saw him, the thump of his boots echoing closer and closer.
" Hey!"
He cringes internally, the hell was that greeting. Hey? Just hey?! He smiles. Cocky as usual. Face never betraying his emotions, yeah he was cool like that. The shaking of his hands held back as he puts them in his pockets. Its alright, he looked cool. Just like that, hands in his pockets fiddling with his phone as he leans against the wall to talk to you.
" Can I talk to you a bit before I go and record stuff?"
Oh gods you smiled and nodded. His heart fluttered. His expression, involuntary, visibly lighting up. The way your smile just made him smile so bright back. He takes a deep breath.
" I uh...I love you."
He spat it out. It wasn't cool. It wasn't sexy. It was a choked out confession. Heart racing, palms now sweaty in his pockets, still shaking. Hells, shaking More now. His breath heavy as he tries to keep the anxiety at bay. A feeling of stage fright he never felt before. Suddenly hitting him. You look at him, face slowly getting more flushed as you process the sudden confession.
" I hate it but I've fallen head over heels for you. I'm a fucking wreck. You ruin me."
Kayn runs his hands through his hair, a habit to calm himself down. His eyes closed as he takes a deep breath before continuing.
" You genuinely make my time here at the studio fun, your presence is chaotic and calming at the same time. I want to be with you. I want us to be a thing. You already know me, you've seen the me on stage during practice, off stage when I record lines, you've seen Rhaast go all out and you still choose to be around me. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted."
He looks at you now, a calm stare. Lips pursed in a tight line. Swallowing hard. His nerves somehow finding solace in letting out all his feelings that were pent up over the month or two since you got to know each other. You laugh, gods your laugh. He's giddy. You tell him you love him too. He smiles.
A pause as he suddenly stands up straight. You tell him you love him too?
" Wait haha what? Really?"
He was amazing of course you'd say yes but still, there was that tiny part of him that was worried. You liked him back? You Love him? The amazing you! The you that shone like a sun in his frustrating days of endless work as a rockstar. You! He was fucking Elated. Arms immediately around you, a tight hug as he lets out a sigh. Breath he didn't even realize he was holding until now. His arms still shaking a little as he held you.
" Can I kiss you. Right now? I-"
Kayn doesn't even finish his sentence, the moment you nod his lips are on yours, passionate. Hands threading through your hair as he holds your head gently. Holding you against him. His free hand around your waist, supporting you as much as he was supporting himself from falling apart at your touch. How he loved you, the smell of your hair so close to him now, the taste of your lips on his, the feeling of your soft delectable lips on his. How warm you were in his hands, how faint your breath on his face. He was in love. He was in Love.
As he pulls apart. He takes another deep breath. The way you left him literally breathless. Fuck. This was an excitement he never felt before. Never has a kiss left him feeling so...good? Never has a hug left him literally shaking with excitement. You were special and now you were his.
" You're so fucking perfect you know that?"
He laughs shakily. A hand rising, trembling as he lightly touches his lips. Still in disbelief. He loves you. Undeniably. Overwhelmingly. The storm of emotions he held for the past, who knows how long, now a summer breeze filling his chest with a warmth he doesn't remember ever feeling. He loves you.
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ladykailitha · 7 months
Text
I See You Shiver With Antic--
Remember that one shot I was telling you about? This is that, but I split it in two because I'm a Dweeb!
Summary: Eddie and Robin are taking their friends to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show where they all dress up. Only thing don't go quite according to plan when Steve gets self conscious about his costume. Now it's a race to get the belle to the ball, Eddie has just the fairy godmother in mind, his old friend Janice former Hellfire Club member and now makeup artist.
***
Eddie heaved a sigh. He had been knocking on Steve’s door for the last ten minutes without much success in getting his friend to open his bedroom door.
“Come on, Stevie,” he cooed. “I’m standing here in fishnet tights and a corset, how much worse could it be?”
He was dressed up as Dr. Frank N. Furter as all of the older teenagers were dressing up as Rocky Horror Picture Show characters for a midnight showing down at the Hawk. Nancy and Jonathan were dressed up as Janet and Brad. Argyle had chosen Riff Raff and Robin was Columbia.
They were supposed to be there at 10pm, for a pre-show party, but if Steve didn’t come out soon, they were going to miss it.
All their friends were waiting by the front door, looking up at Eddie trying to get him to come out. Everyone had tried at least once. Even Nancy. And now they were back to Eddie giving it a go.
“You promise not to laugh?” came the quiet plea from behind the door.
Eddie gave the crowd below a thumbs up as he said, “I promise.”
He heard the click of the door unlocking, but the door didn’t open. So Eddie went in.
He licked his lips to wet them as his mouth had gone dry at the sight before him. Laughing was the farthest thing that Eddie wanted to do in that moment.
Steve could have been anyone. The criminologist, Dr Everett, hell he could have even gone as Eddie, the character, not Munson. But no. Standing before him in the middle of the bedroom was Steve Harrington dressed in nothing but sandals and gold booty shorts.
As Rocky Horror himself.
Eddie tried to think about the implications of that because it could go so many ways, not the least of which was signaling to Nancy he wanted to get back with her.
But he secretly hoped that Steve had done it because he wanted to be Eddie’s creation. That he would belong to Eddie.
But all that those thoughts went out the window when he noticed that Steve had his arms wrapped around his middle and was looking away from him.
“Oh, Stevie,” he murmured and opened his arms for him.
Steve went willingly into his embrace. “I thought I could do it. I tried. I promised Robin. But the scars...I just can’t.”
Ah.
Yeah, okay. Eddie didn’t really care about his scars, but most of the largest ones were covered by the corset. Not like Steve’s. They were all out for anyone to gawk at.
Personally, he didn’t think they stood out that much. The other times he had seen Steve shirtless over the summer when they had been out swimming, they didn’t really stand out.
But it wasn’t his opinion that mattered. It was Steve’s.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You have three options. Stay home–”
“No I want to go!”
Eddie rubbed Steve’s back. “Okay, it’s okay. You could go as someone else. It’s funny, but their Eddie doesn’t dress much differently then I do, it would be a quick and easy fix.”
Steve was quiet. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either.
“Or we can cover it up with makeup,” He concluded.
Steve frowned and stepped back. “You can do that?”
He grinned. “Well not me specifically, but yeah, I’ve got a friend who could cover the scars.”
Steve stepped out of Eddie’s arms, a loss Eddie keenly felt, and nodded. “We can try covering up the scars and if that doesn’t work, I can dress up as Eddie.”
Eddie grinned. “You’ve got it, big boy. I’ll be right back.”
*
Eddie dashed down the stairs and quickly explained the problem and that he had a plan, two actually.
Grudgingly they agreed to go to the party without Eddie and Steve. Once they were out the door, Eddie dashed to the nearest phone. He called Wayne first to bring a change of clothes for Steve.
The second phone call more important, and really hoped she answered.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she picked up. “Janice, apple of eye and love of my heart...” he began dramatically.
“Eddster!” she greeted back. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Babe,” Eddie said with a grin, “I’m calling in my favor.”
“Oohh...” she said. “I’m all ears. I was so sure you would be holding that over my head for years.”
“Must needs must, darling,” Eddie said in a fake English accent. Then he told her the plan. “Bring your kit, we have Cinderella to get ready for the ball.”
“Color me intrigued,” she said. “I’m in. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Fly faster, fairy godmother,” Eddie said. “This is an emergency.”
*
Ten minutes later the doorbell rang and Eddie threw open the double doors.
“Hello, Janice!” he greeted warmly. “We’re set up in the kitchen. If you’ll follow me.”
She dutifully fell in step behind him and marched double time to the kitchen.
Objectively Janice knew who’s house this was, Eddie had even said his name when calling in his favor, but it was quite another to be standing in Steve Harrington’s kitchen with him in gold shorts, looking embarrassed.
Steve Harrington who had never been anything but confident his entire life. He was rich, popular, good looking, and if you believed the rumors a regular goofball. But this was not that boy.
His nostrils flared when she paused in front of the door and he glanced behind him as if to look for another exit. He also had ginormous scars on his both his sides and a wicked one on his neck. He was skittish in a way she instantly understood. He moved the way her uncle did having come home from Vietnam.
She moved out of the way of the door and to his left side at first, but again he flinched and she moved to his right. He relaxed, not enough to remove his arms from his sides, but enough that he was looking at her.
She had heard all the rumors about what had gone down during spring break and hadn’t believed any of them, but she was starting think there was more to them then she had thought.
“Janice, you remember Steve from school?” Eddie said. “Steve this Janice former president of the Hellfire Club, makeup artist, and all round drama queen.”
“Oh I do remember you!” Steve said excitedly, smiling for the first time. “You’re the one that told Carol that coral was so not her color and that it was basically orange.”
Eddie and Janice laughed.
“Oh god,” Janice said wiping away literal tears, “I can’t believe you remember that.”
Steve grinned. “I remembered it because that’s what I told her when she bought it.”
Janice’s jaw dropped. “That’s hilarious!”
Eddie hid a smile behind his hand, grateful that they were getting along.
Steve cleared his throat. “So you’re going to make the scars go away?”
She nodded. “There are a couple things we can do,” she said. “It depends on if you plan on getting it wet, how much people are going to see, and if it’s going to be hot, making you sweat.”
Steve looked to Eddie because he didn’t have an answer to any of those questions.
“It’ll be mostly standing in line to see the movie and then after, so short-ish time,” Eddie said tilting his hand back and forth. “As for getting wet, I wasn’t planning on being in the first couple of rows, not with newbies coming. But I don’t know how hot the theater is going to be.”
“So plan for it being hot just to be on the safe side, but doesn’t need to be waterproof, got it.”
She set her rather large case on the counter and opened it up. Steve watched in fascination as more and more drawers pulled out.
“It’s like magic,” he whispered.
Janice whirled around to face him. “And that’s why I will be your fairy godmother for the evening. Let’s get the belle to the ball!”
She got to work painting his hand different colors trying to match his skin tone, finally finding the one that would work.
“That’s lighter than my skin tone, though,” Steve said with a frown.
Janice hummed. “Yup, because once it’s applied to the scar, the tone will even out.”
“Cool.”
She grinned up at him.
About halfway through the process, Eddie went to go answer the door and came back with a backpack filled with clothes.
Twenty minutes after she started, Janice stepped back to admire her work. “You’ve got a mirror or something around here?”
Steve pointed to a nearby room. “That’s a bathroom.”
She nodded and grabbed his hand and hauled him into the room with her. He went, laughing all the way.
Steve looked into the mirror and gasped. “You can’t tell it was ever there at all,” he whispered. His hand hovered over top, not daring to touch it for fear of ruining her work.
“You can touch it,” she said. “That’s the point. It won’t smear or anything like that.”
He looked over at her with a grin. “You’re amazing, thank you.”
They went back to the kitchen where Eddie was waiting.
She finally took in Eddie’s costume. “Looking fantastically freaky, there Eddster.”
Janice reached up and touched his curls. “Holy shit, you didn’t cut it! It’s all pinned up to look short. You can’t even tell.”
Eddie grinned, flicking his head back dramatically. “Isn’t it amazing?”
“I would hire the person that did that to do hair for my shop in a fucking heartbeat,” she breathed.
“Shop?” Steve asked, confused.
“Janice has a shop where they do hair and makeup for plays, movies, and TV shows,” Eddie explained. “They do awesome work.”
“Yeah,” Janice said. “My main hair gal got pregnant and is having a really bad one. They put her on bed rest just four months in.”
Eddie winced in sympathy.
“Do you only take female employees or would a guy hairstylist have a chance?” Steve asked shyly.
Janice looked at Eddie and then back to Steve. “You did his hair?”
Steve nodded.
“I would take a three-headed green slime monster if they did hair that good,” she said.
She looked between the two boys. “Eddie, if he works out, I might have owe you a brand new favor.”
Steve’s eyes lit up as Eddie cackled.
“Hell yeah!!”
She shook her head. “Hey, you think it would be okay if I joined you guys tonight? I’ve got a wig and French maid outfit, unless you already have a Magenta?”
Eddie and Steve shared a glance.
“Argyle would love that!” Eddie grinned. “He’s our Riff Raff and is indeed missing a Magenta.”
Janice cheered. “Hell yeah, baby! I’ll meet you at the Hawk in a half hour if that’s okay with Steve here?”
Steve nodded. “Nancy and Robin would be thrilled to add another girl to the group.”
Janice smiled. “Great! I’ll see you later!”
Eddie laughed as she practically skipped out of the house lugging that huge kit as though it weighed nothing.
***
Part 2
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prokopetz · 11 months
Note
What traits would you assaign to Kermit The Frog... or is he not especially muppety enough for the pretenses of Eat God?
(With reference to this post here.)
I'd probably give a God-eater who is legally not Kermit the Frog "Amphibious" and "Striking Mien (Trustworthy)" to start. The third Trait is a bit of a toss-up, because Kermit doesn't really do much in the source material, so we don't have any obvious physical capabilities to riff on, and Traits in Eat God are 99% physical. You could go a lot of ways with it; personally I feel like it would be extremely funny to go with "Vile Venom (Hallucinogenic)" and give them a poisonous bite.
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bifuriouswaterbender · 4 months
Text
Edge of Seventeen
I'm a little later in the month than I normally am, but here's my February entry for @steddiemicrofic at a T rating. The prompt was "edge" with the word count 509. I know I'm a little behind Valentine's Day, but enjoy!
Their security hated when Steve did this. They always tried to talk him out of it, and the compromise included at least two members of the team standing near him and a few extra joining the venue security on the other side of the barricade. But he loved the feeling of being part of a crowd, of looking up at Eddie just like any other fan.
"And that's what I am," he'd told a reporter at the Oscars last year, Eddie's arm wrapped possessively around his waist. "I mean yeah, he's my husband too, but I'll always be one of the fans." The absolute heart eyes Eddie had sent his way were still making the rounds as a reaction image on social media.
Steve thought he had a similar expression on his face now. He leaned against the barricade, fans pressing in around them. There was a woman practically hanging on his side that reminded him of Robin. Clearly Lawrence on security didn't like that she was touching him, but when Steve had made it clear that he was fine, there wasn't much the guard could do.
"Jeff thinks I'm a sap for this," Eddie continued, practically purring into the mic.
"No, no," Jeff said. "I know you're a sap for this."
The crowd around Steve laughed, then laughed again as Gareth added the slap stick sound on his drums.
"You see what I put up with?" Eddie complained, but his smile never left his face as he flipped off his friends. "Anyway, it's time for my annual tradition. It's the only time of year I let myself be this gooey on stage."
That was absolutely a lie, and Steve was sure the whole crowd knew it. But when Eddie had found him in the crowd and crouched at the edge of the stage to talk right to him, Steve wasn't going to tease him about it. Not right now anyway.
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby," Eddie said. "I gave you a Springsteen last year, which means it's an off year. I get to pick something else, and while I know you were hoping for ABBA, I can't quite give up my metal card that swiftly."
The crowd laughed again, especially since Eddie had serenaded Steve with Take A Chance On Me six years ago. This year, Steve had seen the betting and predictions online. ABBA had been a pretty strong contender.
Eddie continued, "I figured it was time for a badass lady I haven't sang for you before."
This time the crowd screamed. Steve's smile grew, then grew wider as he recognized the guitar riff of a song he'd convinced Eddie to dance to on New Years Eve. He'd been hoping for some Stevie Nicks.
Apparently so had some of his new friends because the crowd screamed as they placed what it was.
Steve loved his husband's fans and their support. But most of all, loved that they could stand here in a sold out show on either side of the barricade and have a moment just for them.
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rip-quizilla · 3 months
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We Could Be Beautiful: Dead Girl Walking
Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
🔹An AU in which you and Eddie are both actors in a community theater production of Heathers: The Musical🔹
Word count: 1.6K
A/N: Just an idea I’ve had rolling around in my head for a while. This will probably become a series of short blurbs within this AU, taking place between the auditions and the cast party following the final performance of the show.
Tags: mutual pining, unconfessed feelings, allusions to sex, passing mention of suicide (pertaining to the plot of Heathers), references to Heathers: the Musical, song lyrics
If you’d like a visual for the scene described from the original musical, click here
🔹divider made by @k1ssyoursister 🔹
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You took your role as Veronica’s understudy seriously. 
You’d copied down every stage direction, every line, every director’s note- you’d made sure you were prepared. Now, the ultimate test would determine just how prepared for this you really were.
Barb, the actress playing Veronica, had warned you that her sister might go into labor early, and that had been exactly what happened. That meant she would be in the delivery room on opening night, and every program in every audience member’s hand would have a little insert with your picture on it, alongside your name followed by “-will be playing the role of Veronica Sawyer.”
Already, you had managed to make it to the first quarter of the show. “Beautiful” had gone without a hitch, and you’d gotten through “Fight for Me” without your voice cracking. But next was “Dead Girl Walking,” and you were just about ready to fling yourself in front of a bus. Or drink some drain cleaner. 
You hadn’t rehearsed this song with Eddie yet; you knew the words, knew the blocking, knew exactly which note you were expected to sing and every riff you had to hit. But standing behind that velvet curtain as you waited for your cue, you were practically on the verge of a panic attack. When you finally had to enter the stage, you channeled it all- the panic, the nerves, the terror of what comes after tonight.
I need it hard
I’m a dead girl walking
I’m in your yard
I’m a dead girl walking 
You’d watched him sing this song with Barb so many times, and each time you’d wished it was you- now, you had your chance. 
Sorry, but I really had to wake you
See, I’ve decided I must ride you ‘til I break you
Tonight I’m yours, 
I’m your dead girl walking
Get on all fours, 
Kiss this dead girl walking
You knew Eddie’s wide, wet eyes were those of an actor. The eyes of JD as he watches the girl of his dreams. Still, the heat and want you felt right now wasn’t Veronica’s- it was purely yours. So you let it feed Veronica’s words as you held his face in your tender hands and told JD the things you wished you could say to Eddie.
And you know, you know, you know
It’s ‘cause you’re beautiful
You say you’re numb inside
But I can’t agree
You were the one in the blue blazer now. Tonight, he was your JD, and you were scared shitless that when your lips hit his in a stage kiss that was supposed to have so much fire it set the stage ablaze, it might feel a little bit too real. 
So the world’s unfair
Keep it locked out there
In here it’s beautiful
Let’s make this beautiful
Eddie- JD- gazed at you with all the wonder and adoration of a man on his knees for a generous god. His head shook gently, bewildered by his luck as he delivered the next line. “That works for me.”
Then your lips were on him, and for a second you let yourself pretend he was kissing you back and not Veronica. His mouth was warm, his hands hungry as they roamed over your clothes and subtly squeezed until you felt your blazer’s polyester pucker.
When you pulled away for your high note, you gazed into his eyes and saw nothing but truth looking back at you. That fire you’d been feeling all this time was reflected in his eyes tonight. Sure, maybe it’s the stage lights. Maybe he’s just a really good actor. Maybe you’re fucking obsessed with him- but whatever it was, you felt wanted in those eyes. So yeah, you let yourself believe it. You let the script burn you alive.
Full steam ahead, 
Take this dead girl walking
Let’s break the bed,
Rock this dead girl walking
You were drunk on the awe in his gaze, the way he looked up at you like he wasn’t sure if you’d really just barged in through his window to ride him until he was a broken mess, or if you were a fantasy his mind had conjured to fuel his desire to belong to someone who would cherish all he had to give. 
Again, Eddie was a talented actor. You knew that was his interpretation of how his character felt about your character. Still, you let yourself fall into the script as you straddled his tense, shirtless body, his abs crunching under the blue stage lights in a way that made you salivate. You wondered what your spit would look like on his skin. 
You were far too horny to be professional. At least you weren’t so far gone that you couldn’t remember your blocking. 
No sleep tonight for you,
Better chug that Mountain Dew
Your heart fell into your core upon hearing Eddie’s whimpered ‘okay, okay’ in character, needy and submissive beneath you. 
Get your ass in gear,
Make this whole town disappear
His eyebrows pulled together, voice stronger and raspier as it ripped from his chest. ‘Okay, okay!’ His fingers snuck underneath your skirt, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your ass. You wished it was real. 
You eyed him like a predator eyes a kill, determined to stay in his head until he needed you for real. You ran your palm over your cheek, brought your other hand up to fist in your hair, and pretended both hands were his.
Slap me,
Pull my hair,
You grabbed his wrists forcefully, bringing them up one by one to grope each of your tits. 
Touch me 
There (left tit)
And there (right tit)
And there 
To punctuate the final syllable, you couldn’t stop an involuntary writhe of your torso into Eddie’s hands as he grasped your white button down (which was actually a snap-up) at the chest and pulled hard, simultaneously pinching your nipples through your bright blue bra and ripping open your blouse to showcase the swell of your chest for the whole audience to see. You didn’t notice them, though- you noticed the way he looked at your chest like it was the second coming of Christ. You witnessed that fractional widening of his eyes, the way he was entranced by every move you made as you writhed in his lap. 
And no more talking
Love this dead girl walking
Eddie’s voice was lightning in the wake of thunder, bright and jagged and beautifully raw with power as he crooned a harmony to your lead as the song drew to a close. This song wasn’t an easy one to sing; had you not been so distracted by how it felt to have Eddie’s hips between your thighs you might have been nervous that you’d flub your high notes- but you didn’t. In a moment of sheer improvisation you did what just felt right, and that meant grabbing Eddie by hair at the base of his neck and wrenching his head back as you rolled your hips into his.
You knew your blocking was to arch your back away from him, but instead you brought your face close enough to his that it’s possible his mic picked up your perfect, clear falsetto as you pleaded, ‘Love this dead girl walking’ with the cadence of a lover asking, begging their beloved ‘don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop’. Eddie’s eyes registered your improvisational choice, and maybe you imagined it but behind those big brown button eyes he seemed to come alive with you, sitting up even further and digging one hand into your soft, hot skin while the other flexed against the stage floor to keep him balanced. His little ‘whoa, whoa, hey, hey, yeah yeah’s were short and breathy, sounding more like moans and whimpers as he rolled the sturdy bones of his hips into you as you matched his rhythm. 
If you closed your eyes, you could pretend. If you didn’t have blocking to follow, you might have kissed him again, might have bitten his lip, might have reached for his belt buckle with reckless abandon and let a summer’s worth of pining win over in your mind. Instead, you channeled that passion into the way your hips ground into him with the fervor of a woman with nothing to lose. 
Together the two of you finished out the song with heavy breaths and belted lyrics. You writhed. He thrusted.  ‘Love this dead girl,’ your voices intertwined in a desperate dance for release from the tension between you that, at some point, had grown thick as two oak trees planted near enough to forget where one ends and the other begins.
‘Yeah!’
Your hand on his chest splayed out over faded ink. Your hips swiveled against his groin.
‘Yeah!’
His hand fisted in the plaid fabric of your skirt. That wasn’t in the blocking- had they added that? Was this improv?
‘Yeah!’
Using the grip on your skirt, he tugged you further into him as his hips bucked up just enough to bounce you on his groin and shake your exposed cleavage. Without thinking, your hand flew into his hair, grasping the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck and tugging sharply back. You weren’t supposed to do that. 
‘Ow!’
It wasn’t supposed to be a moan, but that was definitely what you would call the sound you pulled from Eddie’s mouth. A soft yet sharp, breathy moan that existed somewhere in the valley between pleasure and pain and definitely sounded more sexy and less funny, which is how it was supposed to sound. You saw Eddie’s eyes go wide as he too came to this realization. 
No matter; if you played it off, no one in the audience would know the difference. You let go of his hair and flung your hand into the air above you, reaching for heaven and belting out your last ‘Yeah’ into the stage lights that lined the rafters above you. Your back arched, and you felt one final push of Eddie’s pelvis into yours, weaker this time as he too came down from the endorphins that ravaged every thought in both your mind and his. 
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Taglist (people I've been talking to about this since the idea spawned): @ghost-proofbaby, @the-unforgivenn, @munson-blurbs, @hellfire--cult
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