#this man is dying to play the drums in a band | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hazelfoureyes · 1 month

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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late.

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence.

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth.

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash.

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off.

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim.

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now.

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow.

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of.

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter.

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.”

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better.

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so.

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up.

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his.

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror.

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks.

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean.

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile.

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely.

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek.

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon.

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?”

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before.

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad? Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star.

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes.

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.”

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.”

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers.

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man.

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die.

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying.

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy.

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving.

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously. He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat.

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead.

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps.

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you?

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth.

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.”

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning.

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move.

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch.

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm.

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you.

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone. You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean.

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

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sweetiecutie · 2 months

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Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the possibility, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

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reasonsmandy · 4 months

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Is there something lost in the sky?

Billy Dunne x Fem!Reader

✧.* you're reading part two of — You Intrigue Me

✧.* requested by 2 anon — pleaseee, you intrigue me pt.2?? // I've been dying to read a part 2 of "intrigue me". Can you do a part 2?

✧.* summary — After years of work the day of your album release had finally arrived, and you couldn't wait to see everyone enjoying your creations. The night would be very pleasant if it weren't for the big question about the relationship between you and Billy constantly haunting your head.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 1.8k

✧.* 🎤 — Billy Dunne's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I know I know, it took me long enough... I'm sorry! But I hope you like it :) Good reading.

You take a deep breath, reaching out your hand for the door hesitating as his fingers slid across the wooden object. You had been waiting for this moment for months, but you couldn't count the nervousness that had been growing in your core ever since Teddy and you started preparing for your album's release day.

You had told the producer that your only requirement was to listen to the album before release with all the people important to this creative process. And the day had arrived, behind that door people were waiting for you to finally hear all the effort of years, it was impossible to control your nervousness and you were failing miserably in this attempt.

You could hear the murmuring behind the door, which made you rethink whether this had all been a great idea in the first place. You feel a hand grab your wrist, and you turn around, coming face to face with the long-haired man smiling small at you.

“You okay?” Billy questions, You feel relief when you see him there, as you always felt in his presence.

“Not sure, actually.” You confess, turning to him. “I forgot how intense this is.”

“When you see everyone there being proud of you, it goes away quickly.” He gets closer to you, and your heart races.

“I don't know if they'll be proud. No one's ever heard it finished except Teddy." You say, trying your best to feel his fingertips on your hands.

“I am, you can be sure of that.” He intertwines your fingers, reassuring you in a way that even if everything falls apart he will be there. “And besides, I'm very eager to see what you came up with.”

Four months had passed since the agreement made between you and the eldest Dunne, Since then the album 'Aurora' had been a huge success and the band had played several shows around the globe. Meanwhile, the two of you always kept in touch, through calls and of course meetings here and there, you weren't sure what exactly permeated your relationship, but with each meeting you fell more with him.

Billy Dunne was an enigma, you felt so understood next to him that it was impossible to describe, every lyric you put down on paper seemed to describe him and every chord he created was like the melodies in your head. You understood each other, and each time you removed the layer of protection that life had made you create to get to know each other, you saw yourself in each other, you connected with each other, you fell in love.

That part of you wanted to keep your feet on the ground, believe that you were just friends and that was it. But now, feeling him caress your hands in an attempt to reassure you, it was almost impossible not to explode with emotions.

“I hope you like it.” That's all you manage to say.

“I'm positive I will, now, come on, pretty girl.” He holds out his hand for you to take. “Let's celebrate your rock n roll record.”

He opens the door for you, and when everyone inside cheers for you he can't help but smile. Large hanging on the wall was your album, as the center of the entire attraction, Warren drummed on the table to increase the celebratory noise, Karen clapped her hands while another whistled for you.

Little by little, they came to greet you and congratulate you on your achievement. You welcomed everyone with gratitude and gradually got excited to see them all here. To your right was a makeshift stage, so you could perform some tracks of your choice, and the band that recorded with you was among the guests having fun at the event.

“Okay y'all, everyone gather here!” Teddy calls for everyone, and little by little they approach. "Now let's listen to one of the most creative albums I've ever been a part of, our dear Y/N created a masterpiece that takes us on a rollercoaster of emotions. And I'm sure we'll celebrate that when she's at the top of the rankings.”

“To Y/N!” Billy says, raising his glass in making a toast.

“To Y/N!” The others celebrate with him.

The album was placed on the record player, you were shaking with nervousness, anxiety and at the same time afraid of what others would think. Deciding to put your hands in your pockets to hide how uncomfortable you were with this favorable space of judgment, you remained with your gaze glued to the album rotating and rotating.

“This is unbelievable…” Billy whispers against your ear, resting his hand on your lower back. “I'm speechless, really.”

You just give him a simple, happy, satisfied smile. Closing your eyes, you listen to those melodies that you had imagined for several nights emanating from the record player, trying to concentrate on what mattered, your art.

At the end of the album, the silence turns into a chorus of applause, and you, without noticing, shed a few tears of emotion. That was it, your work had been done, and you had pleased everyone and most importantly yourself.

You go up on the improvised stage and take the microphone in your hands, drawing everyone's attention.

“I'd like to thank all of you, because if you're here right now you somehow inspired me to get here. I've spent years working on my first album, working on everything you guys saw today and I'm so so so happy with the result.” It was even funny how nervous you were, you stopped and took a deep breath. “I usually say that the lyrics of a song show facets of the soul of whoever creates it, and I showed many parts of myself today to you.”

Once again the crowd applauds, you can see Warren hit a plastic fork on his beer bottle getting a laugh from Daisy. Billy watched you without being able to contain the smile on his face.

“I wanted to invite Billy to sing this song with me." He is taken by surprise but takes the stage, watching you with a clear look of questioning. “He was with me when I wrote this one, and it's my favorite on the album so…”

“Told you!” Daisy whispers to Warren, who looks at her with a lost gaze clearly focused on a black woman leaning against a distant wall.

“Yeah yeah, listen I'll be right back” He says going towards the woman, leaving the redhead with a pair of rolled eyes.

Everyone in the place hears the beat of their drummer's drumsticks indicating that the music is about to start.

Singing with Billy Dunne was inexplicable, and for a moment you wished you were Daisy and experienced it every night. Your voices flew giving reason to the melody, he looked at you with smiling eyes, feeling his body being carried away by what you had created, and to be honest you loved it. He reaches out to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers so they're in the place you both always wanted to be.

You dance around the stage, feeling the adrenaline rush that comes to you as you sing, the older Dunne watching you with pride, happiness and desire emerging more and more as well. When you finish it doesn't take long to hear the audience instead of the instruments, you all thank them and enjoy the rest of the party.

…

It was late, you knew that because from the window of the room you were in you could see the quiet city, as if it was waiting for you in a certain way. And despite knowing it was time to leave, something still kept you there, as if you could hold today in your hands so it wouldn't slip away as the seconds passed.

“Is there something lost in the sky?” You jump in fright when Billy's voice is heard.

“Goodnesses! Why do you keep doing that?” You say, your hand on your chest feeling your heart gallop. It was common when he was around.

He shrugs. "I'm very proud of you, this was all amazing.”

You turn around, smiling genuinely. "I'm proud of myself too, it was all so intense that I just want to stop thinking."

“I understand." He lets out a muffled laugh, you remain silent before he breaks it again. "The deal is over…”

You feel your chest tighten, questions you had asked a few times like "Did everything we went through together only involve what was agreed upon?" danced in your head again.

“Yeah…” That's all you manage to say through the knot on your throat.

“Look Y/N.” He turns to you, his eyes are dark among the dark around you and you curse yourself when you think that this was the prettiest it ever looked. “I like you, I like how everything is easy and good by your side. I just feel understood, like you see me somehow”

You watch him say, your eyes telling him to continue.

“I like us, and I don't want it to end. I don't know how you see this between us or how you want to move forward from now on but I know I don't want to give up on the way life seems to be easy with you.”

You felt like you lost your breath for a few minutes, which seemed like hours, as you saw the breeze ruffle a few strands of the man's long hair in front of you. You smile, a smile that came from deep in your chest and the great honesty of your soul.

You simply kiss him, and feel him smile against your lips. Both of Dunne's arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer, trying to smell you and know every millimeter of your body. You feel the intensity of the kiss grow, and he pushes you lightly against the open window, making the breeze feel on your back.

You break the kiss to observe his face illuminated only by the light, his smile was big and his matched yours. You kiss his nose and then place a light kiss on his mouth.

“I like us too, and you'll not get rid of me easily.” He laughs at your words and kisses you once again.

“I don't even want to.”

Footsteps in the hallway are heard, if you were paying attention you would know that it was two people for sure. Daisy stops abruptly in the doorway, her green eyes wide as she comes face to face with the scene you were staring. She stops Rojas as he walks, holding him with one arm and drawing his attention to the couple kissing in the room.

“Damn.” Rojas says under his breath. “Fuck, I lost fifty bucks!”

Daisy smiles victoriously, pulling Warren to leave you and Billy Dunne alone in your world.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

Taglist: @scenesofobx @katiepotatie @eddiesaurora @hopelessromantic727

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leeloooonfire · 2 years

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STEVE HARRINGTON AS A DRUMMER FOR CORRODED COFFIN.

Hear me out:

After everything with the Upside Down is finished, Eddie's name is cleared and Hawkins gets back to "normal", Corroded Coffin get the opportunity to play at at a huge metal festival during the summer.

The issue?!

Drummer Gareth is out of the country for college, so the others try to find someone taking his spot. But all the other drummers they know are either unavailable, don't believe Eddie is innocent or don't play metal at all (yes, they even asked the drummer from the school and and bro, did they absolutely not want to participate).

Eddie, genius, lovely, perfect Eddie (yes, I'm biased, dont judge me!) remembers how perfectly Steve Harrington swung the bat, thinking "why the hell not?!?!"

So, he asked him.

And Steve.... says no.

But Eddie is persistent, even pulls the 'babe, I died'-card and in the end, Steve reluctantly agrees.

Because they still have 2 months to prepare and Eddie promises to teach Steve everything.

Because Eddie promises he wont make Steve listen to metal more than necessary.

Because they are friends and Steve just wants to hang out with people his own age instead of 15 year old randy teens.

Because...maybe Steve is lonely and tired and the house is too big, too quiet.

Because...yeah, Eddie, infact, died. And Steve still feels awful about it.

Soooo, Steve agrees and Eddie organises them a drum set.

For the next 2 months, they meet up every day and Steve, (un)surprisingly picks up the drums much faster and better than Eddie had hoped. Steve even seems to like it, gets excited about the band rehearsal, sings Corroded Coffin songs when he thinks no one can hear him, wears their shabby unofficial merch shirt and learns more songs than they actually need for the festival.

It's already a lot, but...

What Eddie didn't had in mind, is that it's hot in Indiana and playing the drums for a metal band is literally a full workout. Which means after 2 weeks of struggling, sweating and almost dying bc of a heat stroke, Steve stops wearing a shirt during their sessions.

And Eddie is just sooooooooooo gay! So fucking gay!

The not-so-perfect perfect hair falling into Steve's eyes, so much skin, chest hair, the battle scars that are absolutely metal and hot and does much more to Eddie than they should.... are distracting. Because Eddie is *GAY*!

He shouldn't be surprised when he falls for Steve. Really, he shouldn't. The man is attractive as hell after all, and sweet, kind, occasionally funny. He loves the kids, and Robin, and Nancy and Jonathan. He helps Wayne around the new government provided house, stands up against bullies (like his own dad), is the best older brother figure for Max and Dustin than possible. He listens to Dustin's rambling about DnD, Suzy, science, whatever... even when everyone else has shut down already.

And ... he looks at Eddie. Really fucking looks at him, sees him like no one ever did.

So, he shouldn't be surprised when he fucking falls head over heels for Steve FUCKING Harrington.

It's a shame that Steve is straight, right?!?!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #dustin henderson #stranger things #corroded coffin #steve!drummer

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herrlindemann · 11 months

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Bravo 05.06.1997, interview with Till

The halls burn at their concerts. With their spectacular fire show and their super hit 'Engel' (this week number 3 in the German single charts), Rammstein from Berlin rose to become the new stars of the German rock scene. Frontman Till Lindemann plays the wild man on stage: The muscular, broad-shouldered singer fires flamethrowers, lets showers of sparks spray and dances across the stage as a living torch - without batting an eyelid. In the BRAVO interview, on the other hand, the shrill 'fire devil' shows a completely different side. Till, who has recently dyed his hair silver, speaks softly, in a deep but gentle voice. He seems very thoughtful, almost shy — and he rarely smiles...

Rammstein landed their biggest hit with 'Engel'. How did you get the idea to sing about angels?

The text goes back to a fairy tale I heard as a child. A boy asks his dad about his deceased mother: "Where is my mommy now? » The dad replies: «She is now an angel in heaven. Look up at that star. There's your mommy now! » This story fascinated me. I could sense how lonely and vulnerable the boy must have felt without his mother.

Do you believe in angels yourself?

Anyway, I've never seen one. Richard always says my lyrics are childish and wise at the same time. I really am like a big kid — naughty but innocent. People always think I'm strong and badass. That's not true. I am sensitive and easily hurt — and romantic and passionate in love.

How did you grow up?

We lived in Schwerin in what was then East Germany. My parents are artists. They left me alone, I could do whatever I wanted. I was mainly interested in sports. I was good at swimming, so when I was ten I went to a sports school where I trained for an international career. At first everything went great. When I was 16, I went to Rome with the East German team for the European Championships.

Was that your first trip abroad?

Yes, anyone who went abroad in GDR times was king! We didn't have the freedom to travel back then. I was totally fascinated by Italy. After the competition I abseiled with a girl I met in Rome. I had no intention of running. The next morning I reported back to the team. Unfortunately too late. I got into big trouble and was interrogated by the Stasi. What I did was a crime for them. It was then that I noticed for the first time in what a slave system we lived in. After this trip, I was fed up with the system. I got out and became punk.

How long has Rammstein existed?

Richard, our rhythm guitarist, founded the group in 1993. At Rammstein all band members are equally important. The group can only function with this cast. If one of us gets out, it's over. The guys played in various Berlin groups like Feeling B and The Instabokatables until 1993. I got by in Schwerin as a basket weaver. From time to time I played drums in some punk bands for fun. Richard is an old friend of mine. My voice has always fascinated him. I used to sing out loud at work and he would listen for hours. One day he brought cassettes with new, super hard songs and told me to sing along. At first I didn't feel like it because I didn't want to go to Berlin.

But then you went to Berlin after all...

Yes, Richard talked to me for three days. Finally he convinced me. We then recorded the first demos in the apartment he and Schneider shared at the time. I always had to sing under a blanket because my voice woke the neighbors from their sleep. The three of us formed the core team. Paul, Flake and Olli came later when we won our first studio session at the Berlin Senate Rock Competition in the summer of 1993.

Where does the band name Rammstein come from?

At first we didn't expect to be commercially successful. For over a year we went without a name because we only played at friends' parties. When we signed the record deal, we had to come up with a name quickly. Someone said: "Rammstein. » We liked this name — «Ramm» and «Stein» express movement, strength and hardness. We knew nothing at all about the plane crash that happened in the 1980s at the military training area in Ramstein/Rhineland-Palatinate. We all come from the east and didn't notice anything about the catastrophe.

At the beginning of your career there were rumors that you were right-wing extremists...

Absolute nonsense! We have nothing to do with fascists. When Rammstein started, we seemed like a foreign body in the German music scene because we didn't conform to any cliché. We're just not easy-going heave metallers with long hair and short pants. People didn't know which box to put us in. The box on the right was obvious because we acted very tough and monumental, with long leather coats, shimmering metal, bare shiny skin and all that fire. We wanted to provoke people and do something totally crazy.

« Mein schwarzes Blut und dein weißes Fleisch, ich werd’ immer geiler von deinem Gekreisch. Der Angstschweiß da auf deiner Stirn, hagelt in mein krankes Hirn… » you sing on the number 'Weißes Fleisch'. Are such harsh texts also created out of sheer desire to provoke?

My texts arise from feelings and dreams, more from pain than from pleasure. I often have bad nightmares, waking up at night drenched in sweat from fear because I saw some bad bloody scene in my dream. My lyrics are an outlet for the emotional lava boiling over in my soul.

What scares you?

We all try hard to hide behind a well-mannered facade that we are ruled and guided by drives and feelings: by hunger, thirst, fear, hatred, greed for power and sex. Of course there is also a very strong positive force in us - love. Without them, humanity would have exterminated itself long ago. Drives and negative feelings are particularly dangerous when they are suppressed and hidden from consciousness. In my texts they are allowed to come into the open.

Are you a pyromaniac?

Fire fascinates me. I once brought two New Year's Eve fire breathers to a gig and lit them between songs. The fans cheered and I burned my hands. But I thought it was great that I didn't have to stand around stupidly between the songs, but had something to do. I made myself a gauntlet that could spit fire, then a fire arm. At one point, the fire department showed up behind the stage. On this occasion I learned that you need a ticket to play with pyro effects. So I took the firework exam.

How do you actually live privately? Do you have a girlfriend?

No, not at this time. None of the six of us have an intact relationship. We're just too much on the go. But I don't live alone. I am single father. My daughter's name is Nele and she's twelve years old: she's my everything - for me even more important than Rammstein!

#Rammstein #Till Lindemann #Richard Kruspe #Paul Landers #Christoph Schneider #Flake #Oliver Riedel #1996 #interview #translation #*scans #*

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emojellyace08 · 5 months

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Lookism Random Headcannons (Because why not?)

Read the recent chapter recently and I am excited about the King of Soul's entrance (if ever)

Daniel watches anime since he thinks it's more entertaining than dramas. At some point he also wanted to become a manga artist but quickly gave up on it. His favorite is probably the classics (Naruto, One Piece, One Punch Man, DBZ, and he also likes the recent ones.)

Zack and Johan used to watch WWE matches together while Mira scolds them that they scream too loud when they're watching Royal Rumble lmao.

Undertaker was Johan's favorite WWE wrestler but thinking about it makes Johan embarrassed since he doesn't want to be seen as an edge lord or "emo or a goth" lol. Zack Lee's favorites are probably Edge, Brock Lesnar, and Randy Orton (idk I watch a little bit of WWE in my free time don't blame me).

Since Jay lived mostly alone in his apartment for who knows how long, he was thought by his butler to cook his own food since he doesn't really want to depend on them fully and make them exhausted. (Plus he's mostly bored, so why not cook and bake?) He almost burned his apartment once trying to fry an egg at first.

Hudson might not admit it but he also binges anime like Daniel. He believes that Makima sucks and the ones who defends her are simps (I mean she's a well written antagonist but her personality is a no).

Goo Kim = Cat Girl/ Cat Boy enthusiast (likes wearing low-budgeted cosplays A LOT for his own entertainment).

Goo Kim had stolen Gun's credit cards for his own shopping spree. Not once, not twice, but MANY TIMES.

Samuel might not admit it but he actually likes Jake and Big Deal. He just keeps denying it because of his ego issues.

Jerry had once owned a winter dwarf pet hamster. He properly took care for it for like 2 years and named her Bisky. But since hamsters have short lifespans, it died later on and he cried and didn't sleep well the following days since he missed her deeply. The shrine of it is still staying still on his backyard and he mostly replaces the flowers everyday or i he's not busy to pay tribute to her.

Daniel wanted to learn how to play the guitar or a ukulele but since his mom was struggling with their budget he cannot ask her to buy him one.

Jay can play drums (and teaches Daniel when having sleep overs!)

Mary can play bass and a little bit of guitar. And she secretly listens to rock, metal, and the alternative style of music since she doesn't want to be teased as emo by Vin the asshole lmao.

Avril Lavigne is the reason why Mary dyed her hair blonde you can't change my mind (not forcing you but listen to her music IT'S SO GOOD). She would like to have a friend (if not a girl friend not a girlfriend) who shares the same music taste with her to start a band.

Zack and Vin Jin used to bully kids on Roblox to boost their ego (Zack stopped because of his character development but probably Vin still does it lol).

Younger Kouji had once ate lots of candies and sweets to be "smart like L" from Death Note but almost got diabetes.

Gun and DG wears lip balms to keep their lips plump and smooth. DG had once teased Gun about being a model while Gun just smirks about it.

Mira SECRETLY LIKES Ayesha Erotica's music because of the edits on TikTok but since it's mostly explicit she's refraining to add her compositions on her Spotify playlists.

Since Vasco is mostly hardworking, there are times that he passes the exams (with the help of Jace and other Burn Knuckle members). But he just cannot push himself more to pass the Mathematics exams.

Eli had once tried to kiss Warren after their fight because of his innocence and curiosity before all the Hostel Drama. (I personally don't ship them but I just feel like it's something past Eli would do). They both cringe when they both remember it.

Doo Lee was once a Twitter influencer but because of his past dramas he was cancelled in social media.

Jibeom accidentally smashed Jihan's face when they were little when they are trying to imitate WWE stunts. Jichang was surprised to see his little brother's teeth getting cracked and falling off and he just didn't cried (it was Jibeom who shed tears because of guilt lol).

Crystal is a big fan of "vintage-core" or everything around the older eras because she believes that it doesn't only represents the beauty and evolution of human pop-culture but it also represents history. She always won on auctions to buy antique stuff and mostly donate it on museums to preserve it's structure while she kept some on her room. She almost got canceled by bidding on an authentic Marilyn Monroe's lipstick but she later on posted on Twitter that she donated it on a museum (which is not a fake news).

Gun doesn't eat too much fast-food products because he believes it's unhealthy and has chemicals to make the customers' crave for more (Goo teases him about this by dramatically eating an order of a large McDonald's French Fries in front of his annoyed face).

Ryuhei never kissed a woman in his life because of his nervousness. He secretly was weirded out by it so he lies that he had slept with many women to not be bullied by other people.

Vasco doesn't know how to properly wear a watch and a belt (ngl same I'm that stupid). He also doesn't know how to tie his shoe lace.

Jace prefers dark-chocolate rather than milk or white chocolate. Because he believes that since it has more cocoa content it can boost more of his energy and sharpen his mind and focus especially when taking his exams and quizzes.

Sally's favorite color was purple as she planned to dye her hair with her color of choice with a mix of indigo. But since she's afraid that it won't suit her, she changed her plans and went on to dye her hair with strawberry pink. She didn't expected it to look magnificent on her since Warren complimented her, so after that her favorite color was switched to baby or strawberry pink.

Mitsuki thinks that K-Pop music is cringe but she secretly has BTS, Twice, and Blackpink on her Spotify playlists. Ryuhei found out about this and she was pissed off up until this day lol.

Doo Lee once had a girlfriend who uses him for the money. She later on cheated with a new "handsome and charming" guy and when Doo found out he was FURIOUS. He later on was captured on camera beating the dude and when people found out he was canceled again on social media (pretty privileges never ends). He later on begged Daniel and Duke to make an apology video for him which looks so weird and scripted since Doo was pushing them. But luckily the drama heated down.

Magami Kenta's favorite vape flavors are watermelon, strawberry, and coffee.

Joy is very talented and skilled with nail art and she sells her products in a decent price even if it's REALLY DETAILED and well-crafted.

Sinu Han is a COMIC BOY FAN. Whether it's DC Comics, Marvel Comics, or even manga he's going to buy it. He later on posted on Twitter about how Gojo shouldn't have died since he relates to him so much (he was later on bullied by Samuel that he sounds like a weeb lmao).

#lookism fic #lookism headcanons

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gnrbitch · 10 months

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Grunge Days pt.4 - Funky Monks

Warnings: Profanity, smoking, drug mention, kinda smut?

Book one/ earlier parts

————

1990, San Diego

“Y/n we’re here!” Layne said as he shook Y/n by her shoulder.

The band had just arrived at San Diego, immediately having to do sound check.

Y/n rubbed her eyes, yawning as she gripped her guitar case. “Sound check- I need like 10 minutes to process the fact I even woke up”

Layne laughed as they walked side by side, “You just need a beer, that’ll cool you down”

“Hopefully they have some, and hopefully i don’t sound like shit, do you know which other bands are on the bill?” Y/n asked Layne, remembering that Susan had told them last minute that other bands would be playing also.

“No clue” Layne shrugged “Imagine sound gardens here” He laughed

Y/n rolled her eyes “They just left to London dumbass”

“Oh yea, I forgot” Layne said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Y/n passed her guitar case to Layne as soon as they entered backstage. “Grab this for me, I gotta go to the bathroom”

“Alright” Layne said, taking the guitar with him as he sat next to Jerry.

Y/n made her way to the bathroom, locking the door as she pulled out, what she liked to call, her ‘travel pouch’ (Which is basically all the things she need to shoot up, and obviously a few heroin baggies).

She sighed out and rested her head on the wall, untying her arm after shooting herself up.

She got up, flushed the toilet even though she didn’t use it, and washed her hands.

Lighting a cigarette as she walked back to where everyone else was, observing the people who were talking to her boys. She assumed they were the band that was doing soundcheck when they got here.

She immediately recognized the singers face, smiling as she searched for someone whom she hasn’t seen in a while.

“Is that John Frusciante I see?” She said, smile still on her face as she made eye contact with the boy.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he silently looked at her for a moment, then his eyes widened “Y/n?”.

“The one and only” She smiled, laughing as he got up and embraced her in a hug.

“Holy shit! No fucken way” He said breathlessly as he grabbed her by the shoulders, getting a good look at her face. “It’s been a while”

“It has, I’ve missed you” She smiled at him, taking in how much like a man he looks now.

“You guys fucked or something?” Sean said, putting his hand on his hip, the other having his drum sticks.

The two old friends looked at each other before laughing, “No” Y/n said as she shook her head, “We knew each other back in 86’ ”.

“Feels like just yesterday you bumped into me” John said as he placed his hand over his heart.

Y/n rolled her eyes, a small smile lingering on her lips. “Alright calm down”

She turned to look at the rest of the boys heading over to the stage, she looked at John, “I’ll catch up with you later, gotta go”.

Y/n walked over to Layne, who passed her guitar case to her.

They fucked around while they did soundcheck, all dying of laughter when Layne tripped over a wire and fell right on his face.

“That- That was the funniest shit i’ve ever seen in my life” Jerry said, clinging on to Y/n as they were laughing.

“Yea fuck you guys” Layne said as he rubbed his head, “That fucken hurt”.

They finished up, had some beers with the boys from rhcp, all a bit tipsy by the time the show started.

“Y/n! You were fucken great” John said as he walked up to her.

“Thanks Fru” Y/n smiled at him, handing her guitar over to a roadie. “Wanna go somewhere else? There’s too many fucken people here” She asked

“Hell yea”.

The pair walked over to the bus Alice had arrived in, sitting down. They talked as they smoked some weed.

And even if this made Y/ns heart churn a bit. It also filled her with a sense of relief knowing she wasn’t the only one hooked on dope.

John had pulled out some heroin and offered her some, and of course she said yes.

The pair were silently looking into one another’s eyes, being unable to hold their laughter at how high they looked.

“You look really good Fru” Y/n said as her eyes ran over his face.

“I’d say the same thing about you” He smiled at her, his eyes landing on her lips.

Y/n gave him a cocky smile before she pressed her lips onto his.

He sighed as the kiss became deeper, their tongues moving in sync. He moved over to kiss her jawline as her hand moved to his hair, swiftly getting on top of him.

And what was happening outside…

Slash had decided to go down to San Diego last minute. After practice went to shit, Steven slumping over his guitars and Axl not even showing up. He decided to go to San Deigo to go see Y/n.

After the show, Slash tried looked for Y/n, being unable to see her in the crowd of people that were backstage.

He finally asked Jerry, who said she had gone back to their bus after the show.

Of course, he thought, why didn’t I think of that.

Cigarette in his mouth, he walked over to the bus. Thinking of nothing, he went ahead and opened the door.

And his eyes widened, soon becoming jealous at the scene that was in front of him.

Y/n was on the bus alright, she was also on John, kissing his neck as she unbuckled his pants. Both of them shirtless. It was quite the lewd scene.

John opened his eyes, tapping Y/ns thighs as he saw Slash’s eyes burning onto the girl.

“What?” Y/n said, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at John. John nodded his head over to Slash.

Y/n turned back, surprised to see Slash standing there, she quickly used her hands to cover her breast.

“Slash, hey man” Y/n awkwardly said.

Slash shook his head as he turned back and walked out, slamming the door shut.

Y/n flinched and turned back to John.

“What’s his issue” He asked

“No fucken clue” Y/n shrugged

“Do you wanna keep going?”

“I don’t see why not” Y/n said, smiling at him as they resumed their lewd acts, her hands finally unbuckling his jeans.

Slash looked back to the bus, apart of him hoping Y/n would come back to him. But he rolled his eyes and threw his cigarette on the ground as he finally left the club.

Well, not without taking a girl with him.

But the whole time he couldn’t stop thinking about how fucken jealous he is of that Fru kid, he got fucken Y/n. And Slash was left banging some chick who’s name he didn’t even know.

Fucken Y/n

————

Sorry i haven’t been uploading much guys i’ve just been going through some writers block with this story😓😓😓 hope u guys enjoyed though, gonna be trying to upload more.

Tagged: @alysais2cool @hoodiesandicedcoffee @eddiiiieeee

#slash #axl rose #duff mckagan #guns n' roses #izzy stradlin #guns n roses fanfic #slash gnr #slashfanfic #guns n roses imagine #slash fanfiction #slash guns n roses #slash fic #slashgnrfic #gnr fic #gnr imagine #gnr fanfiction #guns n roses fic #guns n' roses fic #guns n roses

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theageoftheunderstatement · 1 year

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NME: Miles Kane tells us about introspective new album ‘One Man Band’ and shares single ‘Troubled Son’

By Liberty Dunworth, 18/04/2023

The announcement of ‘One Man Band’ – which will be Kane’s fifth solo album – comes hot on the heels of his 2022 LP, ‘Change The Show’. As the guitarist and singer-songwriter told NME, however, the new release couldn’t come at a better time – aiming to reflect his current frame of mind in the most raw and authentic way possible.

“I feel like that was like the most fitting song to come back with,” Kane said of ‘Troubled Son’ representing the album as a whole. “It’s a song [about how] we all have struggles in our lives, and sometimes we have shit together, sometimes we don’t. It’s like looking at myself in the mirror and acknowledging my faults, my fears, and sort of showing my journey.”

He continued: “I’m trying to figure it out. Sometimes you feel insecure. Sometimes you feel like the king of the world. It’s battling those sorts of [emotions]…‘Shit, am I good enough? Is this good enough?’”

Written at the tail-end of 2022, the 11-track album is balanced on contrast, he explained. It ventures back to the sound of his some of his earlier music – notably ‘Don’t Forget Who You Are’ and ‘Inhaler’ – as a way to create something new. It takes an isolated, emotional theme, and conveys it in a “super upbeat” way, designed for festival stages.

“The whole album is pretty pumping,” Kane told NME. “There was a conscious effort that I wanted to make it super upbeat. I didn’t want any strings. No brass. No piano. I just wanted it to be like what got me into playing guitar. A bit like a song like ‘Inhaler’ on the first album [2011’s ‘Colour Of The Trap’] – I wanted that energy again. That was the objective that we had.”

Set for release on August 4 via Modern Sky and produced by The Coral’s James Skelly, ‘One Man Band’ – as Kane explained – doesn’t simply make false promises of authenticity, it tries to convey it in everything from the album cover and music videos, to the names who collaborated on it.

Kane returned to his roots in the north of England to write the LP, and enlisted help from close friends and family to ensure the most “stripped back and real” result possible.

“Most of it was written up north,” said Kane. “I went to Stockport, wrote there with Tom [Ogden, Blossoms frontman]. Then James [Skelly], who was the singer from The Coral, he produced it. Last year we were having a back-and-forth of sending demos, and we recorded it in December and January in Liverpool.

He continued: “My cousin Ian played drums [so] it is a family affair. It’s the first time we’ve ever all worked together. It’s weird how it just fell into place and it feels right. It probably wouldn’t have worked if we’d tried it when we were younger, [but] it was a really nice experience to feel that support and enthusiasm. It sounds like the fucking Indie Mafia!”

Alongside the long list of musicians who collaborated on the album, Kane also recruited a familiar face for the pub-centred music video of ‘Troubled Son’: YouTuber, streamer and The Inbetweeners actor, James Buckley.

Discussing how the idea for the guest cameo came about, Kane said it stemmed from a want to have the music video be as true to his everyday life as possible.

“He’s my mate. I’ve known him probably since my first album and we had just been out a couple of weeks before. Then he just came down for that video! They’re all my mates, all in the pub – we went for a day and just got pissed,” he said.

“Again, I just wanted something just super real and not too posed. Just showing what I do with mates. Even the artwork, a friend took that and it’s of me, not too posed. I wanted it all to be sort of stripped back and as real as can be, to be honest.”

Looking at the release of ‘One Man Band’ and beyond, Kane insisted that, above all else, he is eager to hit the stage again. “I am itching. I just need to get out there. I’m dying. I’m chomping at the bit, really,” he said, also hinting that he is wanting to rekindle his long-time collaboration with Arctic Monkeys’ frontman, Alex Turner.

Although nothing has been announced as of yet – Kane did confirm that an upcoming appearance with the iconic Sheffield band later this year is “very possible” and something the two “have spoken about” recently.

As for fans Kane and Turner’s own band, The Last Shadow Puppets, the songwriter added that while they will “definitely” revive the project at some point, there are no official plans for a reunion happening “any time soon”.

“We always speak about it,” he added. “It’ll always come up. But now we’re both doing our things, you know? I think when it just falls back into place naturally in terms of being creative, writing songs or whatever together, then that will be the day.”

As for Kane’s other supergroup, The Jaded Hearts Club – which also featured Jet’s Nic Cester, Muse frontman Matt Bellamy, Blur’s Graham Coxon, Jamie Davis and Zuton’s drummer Sean Payne – the promise of new music seems increasingly more hopeful.

According to Kane, the band are considering reforming and turning their focus away from covers and towards writing their batch of original material. However, again to the dismay of hopeful fans, this isn’t due anytime soon. “Probably at some point, we’ll do a little record of some original songs,” he said.

“It is a plan. So I think we’ll have a little dive over there at some point. At the minute, I’ve just gotta keep my head balanced on [though]. But one day I think we’ll do some originals and see if they sound any good.”

#interview #miles kane #mk5 #one man band

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bmodiwrites · 2 years

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We'll Be Rocking 'Til the Sun Goes Down

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: I've seen so much circulating about sweaty Steve as a drummer and Eddie's thirst for it, but I first saw the idea here first! Thanks for your service, @steveshairychest! I hope I did your brainchild proud. Word Count: ~9k Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Other than that, it’s pretty tame! Summary:

When Gareth breaks his arm and needs to find a replacement drummer, Eddie is surprised to see Steve stand up to be that person. He's taken off guard by Steve's talent - no one knows that Steve's been sneaking into Hawkins High band room at night just to play the drum kit there. When previous crushes become too much to bear, what happens when feelings bubble over and a shirtless moment finally ignites the flame? Read to find out!

Or - Steve fills in as Corroded Coffins' drummer and Eddie is thirsty for it.

Find it on AO3

Walking into band practice, Eddie had no idea that his life was about to change drastically.

It was like any other day post-Vecna. Eddie dealt with the taunts and teases at school by tucking his head down and actually doing the class work put before him. After fighting and dying and coming back from the dead with some pretty impressive CPR, Eddie wanted to live his life, which meant getting the hell out of high school in order to do so. Being one of the most hated people in Hawkins had its perks – he was skating by with a C- in Mrs. O’Donnel’s class because of all the extra work – as long as he didn’t fuck it up, Eddie was going to walk across the stage. All his haters be damned.

Following the school day, Eddie went back to his trailer to pre-game and practice a little extra before rehearsal with the band later. He burned down two joints while working on the fingering of Master of Puppets for the billionth time. While Eddie wasn’t going to play it during any of Corroded Coffins’ shows, a certain kind of comfort came from the familiar song he swore saved his life. By the time the sun was setting, Eddie felt sufficiently ready to jam with the rest of the guys.

Gareth’s garage had quickly become a safe space for all of the Hellfire Club (and their girlfriends) to hangout. When Dustin and the party weren’t over at Steve’s or gathered up in the drama room for campaigns, most of them were lounging on the dirty couches at Gareth’s. It became almost natural for Eddie to walk into their practice space to see Steve and Robin there, too. Following the group’s entanglement with the displeasures of the Upside Down, being separated from one another was hard – even Eddie understood the feeling.

So, when he got there and saw Steve amongst the chaos, Eddie didn’t think twice. Steve looking up at him with a hopeful smile didn’t set off any warning bells – why should it when Eddie actually enjoyed seeing that expression on Steve’s face? Eddie got to keep it together long enough to get his guitar strapped across his chest before the shit hit the fan. He failed to notice that Gareth wasn’t sitting behind the drums until he walked out of his house with the entirety of his right arm in a hard cast.

“Gareth, what the hell, man?” Eddie exclaimed, finally on the right page of what was happening. His eyes roamed over the black plaster keeping Gareth’s arm at a ninety degree angle. No matter what his drummer said, there was no getting around the lack of full arm movement – Gareth obviously wouldn’t be drumming for them any time soon.

After getting the details, Eddie was loathe to admit that Gareth’s attempt at grinding down the railing in front of the gym on his skateboard was a worthy way to break a bone – despite making them a very important man down. Eddie had no idea what to do next, but it seemed as if Gareth did. His eyes were heavy on Steve, drawing Eddie’s attention. He watched his two friends share a look before Steve stood up. “Gareth asked me to fill in and I’d be happy to do it.” Steve looked kind of nervous while he spoke but determined all the same.

Out of all the fixes Eddie could’ve thought up, having Steve play drums for them was not one of them. Until that moment, Eddie didn’t even know the preppy boy could play an instrument, let alone the drums. Never mind the fact that Steve actively disliked Eddie’s turn to DJ whenever they rode in a car together or hung out in general. How any of that equated to Steve being able to take Gareth’s place, Eddie didn’t know. He was aware of the fact that they needed to find a solution, though, so he tried not to immediately say no.

“Can you actually play?” Eddie found himself asking, trying so very hard not to sound condescending as he did. The feeling of confusion still clung to him, dulling his already terrible social skills. Steve didn’t seem to mind, though – he even smiled at Eddie’s tone.

Instead of answering, Steve bent down to grab a pair of drumsticks Eddie didn’t see sitting on the couch there before. He was befuddled to think that Gareth and Steve managed to pull one over on him without Eddie even knowing – the evidence, however, was right in front of him. Steve sat down behind the kit with a soft huff. His fingers gripped and ungripped the sticks a couple of times before he clicked them together three times and started to play.

Eddie tried not to let his jaw drop, but knew he failed tremendously. Aside from the fact that Steve could play, like truly and genuinely play, Eddie was further shocked to find that Steve looked damn good doing it, too. Maybe not shocked but taken aback. His biceps were barely covered by the tight t-shirt riding up with every arm movement. Forearms that were visible clenched and tugged when the sticks hit the drums. Whatever athletic skill the younger boy had clearly translated into good balance and great hand-eye coordination. It was odd to see Steve let go so easily – he looked kind of like Gumby in his fluidity.

Taking a look at Gareth and Jeff, neither one of them seemed to be surprised by what was happening in front of them. Gareth even seemed to be smiling as Steve made his way through the song without too many hiccups. Eddie wondered then what was worse – not knowing how GOOD Steve was at the drums or coming to the realization that things were happening behind his back. It was a pretty heady tie between both of those ideas; Eddie hated being the odd man out.

Still, he clamped down on his hurt feelings to clap along with his friends when Steve stopped. His chest was heaving, the usually pristine hair drooping over his forehead in disarray. The hazel of his eyes seemed to be shining brighter in the fluorescent garage light. Eddie thought he looked happy – who was he to rob the world of such a look on Steve Harrington’s face? Wordlessly, Eddie nodded his approval; when push came to shove, they were lucky to have such a stand-in. Eddie just wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of spending so much time with Steve looking so goddamn yummy alive.

----

two weeks earlier

Steve never expected his secret to get out.

Really, he went out of his way to make sure that only Robin knew about his late night trips into the Hawkins High band room. He’d been sneaking in to the use the drum kit there for more than a year as a way to relieve stress and deal with the long nights without much sleep. After a couple of mishaps with the late night janitorial staff, Steve knew the right time to climb in through the window and have a couple hours of peace where the noise he made drowned out everything else in his head.

He found quite a bit of success in keeping his little hobby to himself, simply because people didn’t expect much of anything from him. Definitely not the knowledge and skill to make his hands and feet work at the same time like the drums demanded. Never mind the fact that all of his playing happened in the middle of the night when everyone else was sleeping. It was nice to have something that was only for himself – being a surrogate dad to more than six obnoxious and nosy teens made it difficult to have any privacy.

Every night, Steve risked getting caught for a bit of freedom and anonymity where he could be sad or happy or scared or mad without anyone judging him. The drums were a perfect source of concentrated noise that channeled Steve’s inner feelings better than talking to a therapist or sharing with his friends ever would. Not to mention he was starting to get good – like play in a band and actually contribute something good. While he never had an ear for music before, buying into the organized chaos of the drums made it easy to pick up rhythms without much trouble. Throw in all the natural talent he had in all the sports he played and Steve was proud to admit that his long limbs and wild spirit were perfect for the drums.

Of course, no one was supposed to know about Steve’s knack for the instrument – he went out of his way for that to be the case. Too bad Gareth didn’t give a shit about Steve’s hopes and wishes.

The night he was found, Steve was working through some mixed feelings regarding a certain long haired boy. He found it hard to be in the same room with Eddie without being drawn into his orbit. At first, Steve swore it was fascination with the new person in their slowly expanding family. Steve got front row seats to Eddie’s epic metal distraction that saved all of their lives, changing fascination to genuine attraction. His friend had skill that spoke of hours of practice and the sort of passion for music that only real musicians could touch. It was a beautiful sight that stuck into the depths of Steve’s subconscious. The interest in Eddie he’d already been trying to push down became something real and Steve didn’t know what to do with it.

Lucky for him, Nicko McBrain had drumlines that were complex and intense and just enough to distract him from thoughts Steve was nowhere near ready to deal with. He was wailing through the intro to The Trooper when the band room’s door opened and Steve’s world changed.

He half expected Gareth to start questioning him immediately. Steve remembered the younger boy enough to know that he was loud and outspoken – a lot like Eddie in that sense. Instead, Gareth stood there perplexed for an entire minute, still as a statue. Then – “You’re not half bad, Harrington.”

From there, Gareth wandered into the room, only to sit down behind the other set with a smile. “Want to try a duo?” His sticks were in his hands before Steve could really answer, but what would saying no really do for him? Steve picked up his own pair in answer, clicking them together to count them both in. It was shockingly fun to play with someone else, to hear another musician banter back and forth with him. And while Gareth was a bit more well practiced than him, Steve actually kept up. He was confident enough to stick it out and play decently with someone that was in an active band.

Steve played well enough, at least, for Gareth to come back the next night and then the next. They never really talked outside of deciding what song to play and the tempo they wanted to work it at, but that was just fine. He never had any intention of sharing his hidden talent with anyone. Their tentative alliance was built from late night breaking and entering and a knack for Iron Maiden’s work; built out of necessity, even. In a world where demogorgons and Vecna once existed, Steve wasn’t all that perplexed by a friendship where no words were exchanged – there were certainly stranger things.

Sure that the easy and silent connection would continue on, Steve was surprised to see an apathetic Gareth come into the music room a week later. He looked a little loopy and his arm was covered in what looked to be a fresh cast. Instead of sitting behind the drums, Gareth took a seat close to the kit that Steve liked to play. “I need a favor,” Gareth said, looking at Steve with a scarily serious expression.

“A favor?” Steve repeated as he turned on the stool to get a better visual of the younger boy. “What could I possibly be able to do for you?” While the question might’ve come across standoffish, Steve didn’t mean anything by it. They hadn’t ever had a real conversation – Steve knew nothing about Gareth other than his drumming skills and the setup of his garage. It was odd to think that Steve could be of any help.

Of course, Steve never took into account that a broken arm for Gareth meant no drummer for Corroded Coffin. His heart panged at the thought of Eddie being disappointed. After watching his secret crush almost die, Steve didn’t have it in him to see Eddie unhappy. That beautiful face covered in blood was already burnt into his memory, any more hurt would be too much. Without much internal quarrel about it, Steve was agreeing to whatever Gareth had to say. He was confident enough in his skill to put himself out on the line for Eddie’s scrutiny. Hell, Steve found himself excited to be there to see Eddie’s face when the truth came to the surface.

As predicted, the pure shock that overcame Eddie was more than worth the dramatic reveal that Gareth planned. Since Steve was already familiar with Eddie’s taste in music, it wasn’t hard to pick up on the drumline needed to play Corroded Coffins’ songs. With the minimal help that Gareth could provide and a bit of piecing together the sheet music, Steve was more than ready to step in and make the band proud.

And wasn’t that a thought – Steve’s mind stuck to the idea of having Eddie look at him with amazement and genuine pride. It was one thing to save the world together, playing in a band side by side, that was a completely different monster.

----

Eddie had no idea where Steve’s talent came from, but he was happy for it, nonetheless. Steve could play with a skill that wasn’t that far from Gareth’s and knew most of the band’s songs. It only took a few minutes of catch up for Steve to fit comfortably into the sound he and Jeff created. It was so goddamn mystifying, looking back to see Steve swinging drum sticks and sweating through song after song. Never in his wildest thoughts did Eddie think his wet dream would ever come to life. In fact, he was almost upset by the reality of it – Eddie could keep a cap on his feelings when a decent boundary existed between him and Steve. Not when the personification of sex and want was just a feet away from him – Eddie was a weak man like that.

When the kids were around, Eddie was too busy trying to keep up with them to even think twice about Steve (though, even that wasn’t completely true). During band practices before Steve joined, the numbskulls they called friends needed to be watched and stopped before they did anything untoward in Gareth’s home. With the grown-ups of the group, Robin provided a good enough buffer that Eddie got away with minimal conversation and lots of silent staring.

Having Steve just steps behind him, contributing to the music and leading them into the songs more often times than not was a sweet sort of torture that Eddie didn’t think he was going to enjoy. It was the ultimate tease to have Steve’s eyes on his back, following his cues as they moved from bridge to chorus and back again. So many times, Eddie found himself traveling back towards the drum kit during musical solos where he shredded harder than ever before. There was something about seeing Steve look up and smile at him from behind the snare that made Eddie just lose it. His love for music had no right tag-teaming with his uncontrolled feelings for Steve, yet there he was, looking at the boy with moony eyes while playing the best guitar he ever had.

Never mind the fact that Corroded Coffin sounded better than ever. The new dynamic was rich and exciting and alive in a way that Eddie wanted to bottle up and listen to forever. While they weren’t great by any means, they actually sounded good. Good enough, at least, to draw in a few extra drunks during their next Hideout performance.

Eddie started to doubt his ability to actually make it to that performance, however. Every rehearsal they had, Eddie left in a puddle of neediness and anxiety and want. It took him no time at all to get his van parked a safe distance away so Eddie could get a hand in his pants without an audience of people he had to see every day watching him fold under the weight of desperation. He closed his eyes and drew up Steve’s sexiest habit – when he was extra absorb in the song, Steve would toss his head back and close his eyes. It looked like the personification of ecstasy that made Eddie so hard he fumbled notes and forgot lyrics when he had the privilege of viewing such a sight.

It didn’t take much more than the thought of biting the column of Steve’s neck or running both hands through Steve’s sweaty hair to get Eddie to an embarrassingly fast end. His arousal was through the roof and directly tied to Steve Harrington and the dumb way everything about him was drop dead sexy. His arms that were long and muscled, his legs that were strong and powerful against the bass drum, even his stupid face that twisted and contorted into different expressions of uninhibited joy. In his feeble defense, everything Steve did looked like sex. The face he might make after an orgasm, the way he might move his body, fuck – how talented his hands would be.

Stopping that train of thought was getting harder to do now that every part of Eddie was aware of the pent up nature of his desire. Many times throughout their latest practice, the vision of narrowing the space between them and tackling Steve into his drums played on a loop in Eddie’s brain. He was thankful for the fact that his guitar hung low enough to cover his excitement. Despite being a teenage boy for a number of years, Eddie hadn’t ever experience such a loss of control over the higher functioning of his brain. Now that the itch was there, cessation of the pressure and need wouldn’t go away until that delightful scratch came to be.

And wasn’t that something – the thought of Steve wanting to reciprocate such a gesture. Up until they started to play together, Eddie tried not to pay attention to Steve’s stare. He wasn’t all that certain what it meant then – despite striking up a friendship, old habits die hard and the lack of trauma was an easy enough excuse to fall back to old ways. Except, it quickly became obvious when Steve never looked away that the glance was much more complex than that. Eddie thought he’d been in the driver’s seat when ignorance was bliss but that was folly. Playing chicken with heated glances started well before Eddie decided to recognize it. He understood that now.

That knowledge wasn’t nearly as reassuring as Eddie figured it might be, however. Accepting that attraction was mutual meant gritting his teeth and making a move. If he didn’t do something about it, spontaneous combustion was a real worry. Before, Eddie got in and out without the worry of repercussions. He made surface level connections in order to treat intimacy like a transaction. That option didn’t exist with Steve when genuine feelings were involved – at least on Eddie’s end. While he wanted to absolutely destroy Steve until he forgot about anyone but him, Eddie also wanted to hold him tight and kiss his head as they cuddled together afterwards.

Meaning, of course, that Eddie needed to come up with a plan that wouldn’t ruin their friendship and obliterate the band to tiny pieces in the process. Until Gareth came back and was healthy enough to play, Corroded Coffin needed Steve to take control behind the drums. Eddie couldn’t risk imploding the entirety of his life for just anyone. Except, Steve Harrington wasn’t anyone – he was a brave boy with depth and compassion that made his good looks even more attractive. Despite never admitting it before, Steve was what Eddie’s heart wanted.

Though he wouldn’t say it out loud, Steve was having the time of his life playing with Corroded Coffin. His inner jock enjoyed the camaraderie of being around others with a similar goal in mind. It felt like being on a team again, giving him a sense of purpose that had been missing since he graduated. To be a good band, playing off of each other was mandatory – Eddie and Jeff were so good that it was easy for Steve to make up rhythms as he went along to fill in the gaps.

Never mind the fact that watching Eddie play the guitar was a special sight to see. For some reason, the older boy liked to wield his instrument in the comfort of cut off t-shirts that showed off arms fit from playing and trim sides that glistened with sweat after the first few minutes of every practice. His fingers were clever across the frets, moving with a speed that didn’t seem real. Steve always figured Eddie spent extra time working his fingers to be able to move them that quickly – those thoughts always led to ideas that weren’t decent or pure or appropriate to have about male friends. Nonetheless, Steve often had to wipe his chin of drool.

Steve stopped minding the direction his thoughts took when he noticed Eddie’s eyes on him just as much. It was subtle at first – Eddie had great stage presence that gave way to a lot of chaotic movement. Though he trekked all across the floor while they played, the time Eddie spent in front of Steve’s kit started to increase substantially. When they locked eyes it seemed as if the music got a little better. Steve’s hands were wild and free and knew exactly where to go to keep up with the crazy guitar riffs Eddie always came up with. It became increasingly clear that whatever attraction existed was something both of them were fighting against.

That seemed silly, though, fighting something that felt right. After coming to terms with the fact that things with Nancy would never be what he wanted them to be, Steve backed away from dating. He stopped trying to pick up girls at the store and didn’t give into the flirtations that came his way. His heart was in a healing process that took acceptance to finally complete. It was nice to spend time working on all things Steve – understanding what he wanted and how that might look different than his earlier ideas was exactly what he needed. Steve got quality time with himself to find the kind of clarity he never had when navigating the dating world before. He was secure in the fact that having feelings at all was a telling thing. What that meant and how it might look was still something Steve was trying to piece together but he wouldn’t be opposed to doing so with Eddie in the loop. The only problem that remained then, was owning up to scary feelings and doing something about it.

Steve was no closer to knowing how to do that when the night of their first gig together finally came around. There was so much nervous energy welling up inside of him that getting to The Hideout and onto the stage without losing his shit was a total miracle. Not to mention the fact that the kids and Robin and Nancy were going to be in the audience – his perpetual boner for Eddie was secondary when so much pressure weighed him down.

At least, that’s what Steve’s anxiety wanted him to believe. Once he joined Eddie and Jeff backstage, Steve’s mind suddenly went blank – all the conflicts and nerves and thoughts of impressing his friends dripped out of his ears as his brain melted. Eddie’s hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, making his neck look long and inviting. He had on his usual guitar pick necklace and a v-neck cut-off that further enhanced his collar bones playing peek-a-boo out of Eddie’s shirt to make Steve’s mouth water.

Drawing his eyes away from all that pale skin was hard but more than worth it when he noticed the dark eyeliner around the edges of Eddie’s eyes – the black made his brown irises stand out like vivid pools of sand Steve could so easily walk into the middle of and sink down to the bottom peacefully. In that moment, Steve forgot everything but the lucky opportunity he was going to have to see Eddie’s outfit from the back for the entirety of their set.

Getting up onto the stage and behind the drum kit, Steve realized he didn’t have anything to worry about, anyway. From his spot there, the crowd was barely visible – once they started playing, forgetting about all the eyes staring at him would be a piece of cake. Unless any of their friends went out of their way to be assholes and distract Steve on purpose, his ability to play was pretty unimpeded. So much so that they made it through half the set before Steve looked up again to take in the tiny people shifting and swaying in front of the stage.

In between playing songs and trying not to lose his focus staring at Eddie, Steve worked up quite a sweat. The stage was small and all the equipment gave off so much heat that he mindlessly peeled his own sleeveless shirt up and over his head, leaving Steve shirtless from that point on. It was a relief to finally be able to have a bit of cool air circulation hit his flushed skin. While he hadn’t noticed it before, Steve was surprised to see the puddle of sweat he left behind on the floor below him and the drums before him. When he played, the sweat bounced up off the snare, creating a cool effect that added to the show. Plenty occupied with that, Steve didn’t notice Eddie turning to stare at him with hunger in his eyes.

----

It shouldn’t have come as such a shock that Steve in performance mode was so attractive. Eddie had been drooling over the boy for weeks as he worked behind the drums. Yet, something different took over Steve when he stepped up onto the stage to play for an audience. Eddie almost wished he bought into the conventional stuff while Steve was still in school so he could’ve seen him play the multitude of sports the former jock was known for. He was certain that the look of focus and determination that overcame Steve’s face the second the lights lowered and Eddie counted them into the first song, was similar to what he looked like on the court defending the basket and scoring buckets. Though, Eddie wouldn’t have made it through those moments with his sanity intact, so maybe never experiencing it was a good thing.

His mind felt like mush with every passing second that Eddie forced himself not to turn around and watch Steve in action. Luckily, all of the songs on their setlist for the night were ones that Eddie wrote himself. He knew them like the back of his hand, or, at least enough to play them with distraction plaguing his brain. Eddie was proud to have made it halfway through the set before making a complete fool of himself.

He was silly enough to finally turn around and look between Steve and Jeff when he began the opening notes of their newest song. It was the band’s first time performing it live and Eddie wanted to make sure they were all on the same page. His good intentions dropped on the floor, breaking to pieces, when Eddie noticed all too familiar bare skin and chest hair. Eddie still hadn’t recovered from the many hours Steve spent shirtless during their first trek through the Upside Down. So many of his dreams were filled with Steve Harrington’s happy trail and the way his muscled arms looked in Eddie’s Dio vest. None of that prepared him for the sight again, however – not when Steve’s chest was flushed red from exertion and glimmering with sweat and the stage’s low lighting. His chest hair was matted down and thick looking; it called out to Eddie with such a voice that made him want to bury his fingers into the depths of it and not let go. Never mind the fact that Steve’s boyish coif was completely soaked with sweat and slicked back to rest out of Steve’s eyes and face. The entirety of the picture was so much that Eddie’s fingers slipped, causing him to miss a chord for the first time in all of his Hideout performance history.

For the sake of the rest of the song, Eddie turned back towards the audience, quickly playing up the crowd – without the temptation, at least his fingers would do their job and produce the right notes. The song was new, anyway, so no one noticed, probably not even Jeff or Steve. If push came to shove, Eddie could always chalk it up to nerves or something much more believable than the mini heart attack caused by Steve Harrington’s sweaty chest. By the grace of whatever was up there, Eddie got through the rest of the song without anymore hiccups.

His attention, however, started to wander – that brief moment of letting Steve get into his head cracked the foundation of it. For the rest of the set, Eddie fought against himself; one part of his brain was forthright and focused on the music, the other half was buying into temptation. Eddie sang the last handful of songs with his body halfway turned towards the stage on one side and Steve on the other. It was a treacherous thing, to be betrayed by his own mind. The sensation was new yet more than obviously not going anywhere anytime soon. In a lot of ways, Eddie didn’t want it to, either.

Aside from his own preoccupation, Eddie was happy to note that their performance went really well. It was a lot of fun to play for all of the party and a dancing Robin and Nancy in the small puddle of people. Just being on stage was exhilarating but playing to somewhat of a crowd was what live music was all about. The increase in fun Eddie had was noticeable – shifting the head count from five to fifteen made a world of difference. He was happy to note, too, that their friends actually looked like they enjoyed themselves. Eddie only chalked up half of it to the fact that they were out late and at a bar for the very first time.

Walking off the stage post-encore, Eddie’s performance high was at its peak. Between the adrenaline of a show well done and the rush of attraction and arousal that hadn’t left him, Eddie knew the come down was far off, too. They high fived and joked with Gareth who’d been backstage throughout the entirety of the show. It was amazing to bask in success with people who were also breathing hard and riding well above the clouds. Eddie smiled and laughed and noticed that Steve never stopped looking at him.

When he got the chance, Eddie caught Steve’s attention and nodded towards the hallway. Eddie didn’t have to say anything for the younger boy to follow him, a cute but curious expression in place.

----

Steve immediately took what he said back about a band being like a team. There was no way to compare the two things because Steve had never felt so exhilarated – walking off the stage felt big and exciting and important. No trudge back to the locker room after a game ever gave Steve that sort of feeling, even when they won the big ones. It made him wonder if he missed his calling, if maybe, by trying to be cool and fit in, Steve got off the track he was supposed to be on.

Nonetheless, Steve finally felt like he was where he was supposed to be. Being surrounded by noise and playing in front of a crowd was what he wanted to do in the grand scheme of things. He wasn’t all that certain what that meant yet but Steve appreciated the comfort of understanding another piece of himself.

Still reeling from their performance and the distinct way Eddie couldn’t take his off of him (the way they couldn’t take their eyes off each other), Steve was seconds away from plopping down on the couch backstage when Eddie’s gaze caught his. There was something in it that tugged on Steve, pulling him effortlessly in Eddie’s direction. He mindlessly followed the older boy out into the hall where it was strangely silent. After all the loud thumping surrounding him for the last hour, Steve was almost overwhelmed by the quiet. But, his mind didn’t have a chance to grasp onto that because Eddie Munson was suddenly in his space. Much more so than usual and they already lacked quite a few boundaries. Steve had no idea what to think but that wasn’t necessary, either. Before Steve knew what was happening, Eddie’s hands were grasping either side of Steve’s neck. The last thing Steve registered was the cool shock of Eddie’s rings against his skin; then, lips were on his and rationality left the building.

Despite kissing many people throughout his life, Steve was certain he never experienced anything like Eddie’s particular brand of affectionate focus. When Steve didn’t hesitate to kiss back, Eddie groaned into his mouth. Eddie opening his lips gave Steve the perfect chance to slide his tongue along their seam before pressing forward to experience the warm heat of Eddie’s mouth. Their tongues tangling together set off an explosion of colorful fireworks behind Steve’s closed eyelids – if the simple concept of kissing felt so Earth shifting, Steve was almost afraid to find out the sort of feelings more could bring about.

Losing track of himself, Steve was surprised to feel the hard press of the wall against his back. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff. Now that he could breathe again, Steve’s brain rebooted, coming back online just in time to take in the intoxicating smell of sweat and weed and exhilaration that clung to Eddie’s body. His cheeks were red and glistening, probably just as slick and sweaty as the rest of them. It was so much to process yet Steve was so happy to be in the clutch of Eddie’s caress that he didn’t mind the extra effort his brain demanded. Without knowing what the fuck was actually going on, the desperate part of Steve wanted to grip and cling tightly to every detail available. If Eddie’s actions were a fluke and this was the only time he got to experience the rush, Steve needed to remember everything he could.

“You have no right looking as amazing as you do,” Eddie mumbled, his voice rough. He rubbed the tip of his nose against Steve’s while he spoke, like the older boy was unable to pull away or stop touching Steve, even if only for a moment. His eyes were lust blown and hazy when Eddie caught Steve’s glance – there was so much to be read from them. Instead of trying to, Steve grinned easily at Eddie’s admission.

“Have you seen yourself?” Steve asked as he lifted a hand to trail his thumb along the smudged eyeliner. Now that their set was over and Eddie was so close, Steve could appreciate the way Eddie’s eyes seemed to shine with the makeup surrounding them. It was no wonder people fell head over heels for rock stars – they looked damn good making interesting, attention grabbing music. Thankfully, no one else had a shot with the one still pressing him against the wall. At least, Steve was going to make sure that was the case.

There was a moment where the silence overtook them – Steve was gulping Eddie’s presence in while Eddie stared at Steve’s lips. While the things they said weren’t the monumental confessions of feelings that Steve expected, he already felt better knowing Eddie was struggling with the sense of control the same way he was. They were enough to give Steve the confidence to grip Eddie’s hips and pull him into another heated kiss without worrying over Eddie and how he might feel about such a move. The hard press of Eddie’s lips against his own in answer said he liked it quite a bit, anyway.

The next time they broke for air, the backstage door banged open. Eddie tried to pull away, but Steve wrapped both arms around Eddie’s waist, keeping him close. Gareth and Jeff looked at them, then between each other before bursting into a raucous laughter. “We were wondering when you two were finally going to do the thing,” Jeff said, slapping a ten dollar bill into Gareth’s hand. “If you would’ve waited until the gig next week, I would’ve been the richer man.” So overcome by the easy acceptance, Steve could do nothing but laugh in return – leave it to Eddie Munson to have friends that could render him speechless.

----

Eddie had no idea what actually happened or how they got there, but a couple of hours later, he was sprawled across Steve’s mattress with the younger boy over top of him. Since Eddie lost his mind and decided to tear up their usual script, Steve hadn’t stopped kissing him. Not when they fumbled backstage to get their gear. Not when they got the van loaded well enough to drive it safely home. Certainly not when Eddie got behind the wheel in order to head to Steve’s place. Definitely not when they got out and beelined it into the empty mansion to push and press each other up against every surface. Eddie couldn’t remember a time that evening when Steve’s lips weren’t on his or against his neck or skating across his skin. All of the moments since stepping off stage were a blur capped off with the vivid vision of the glorious Steve Harrington.

The best part of making it to the bed was the steady loss of clothing. Steve put his shirt back on to leave the bar, so Eddie was happy to pull the offending garment over his head again. When that chest was revealed for the second time, Eddie didn’t have to avert his eyes or focus on anything else. He got to take in the dark chest chair and hard muscle. Steve’s demobat scars were pretty similar to Eddie’s, so his fingers recognized a lot of the paths as he traced them. Between soft skin and a happy trail that led down into tight Levi’s, Eddie had plenty to explore.

A certain sense of urgency ran through his veins, however. No matter how much Eddie reminded himself that Steve was willingly sharing space with him, the scared little boy in him demanded a staked out claim. Like the physical joining of their bodies in some way, shape, or form was going to solidify the bond that Eddie was certain they’d been working on for ages now. He wanted so badly to keep things slow and enjoy the feast before him, but like most hungry men, Eddie was impatient and wanted everything all at once.

It was hard to decide where to put his hands after Eddie hurriedly pushed Steve’s jeans and underwear down to render him naked. With so much more on display, it was impossible to decide between the gorgeous swell of Steve’s ass or the warm stiffness of Steve’s cock. His mouth watered at the thought of having such unfettered access to a canvas that Eddie had only ever dreamed about before. Luckily, Steve was good at taking charge – without having to say a word, Steve rolled them over so Eddie could wrap his legs around trim hips and hold on for the ride.

And that was the best idea because Steve’s hips immediately started to do such beautiful things. Eddie watched him slide a hand between them to grip both erections in a firm hold. Brown eyes stayed glued to Steve’s arm as it started to move up and down, pumping their cocks together in a teasing tug. The delicate slide of skin on skin had Eddie throwing his head back, a loud moan dripping from his lips. “Fuck, that’s good – “ his voice was shaky and rich, full of arousal that seemed to be leaking from every part of him. Steve’s eyes flashed at the compliment and Eddie realized then that praise was a glorious way to make Steve’s cock throb in excitement. The other boy had even dribbled a bit of pre-cum because of it.

Keeping up the steady stream of compliments and desperate rolls of his hips, Eddie was strung out in no time. There was nothing to be done about the proverbial cocktail of Steve’s cock sliding against his own and the sight of hard muscle pulling and clenching with every move the other boy made. Never mind the fact that Eddie had been a walking hard on for weeks. The fact that his toes were already peeking over that delicious edge wasn’t surprising in the least.

Of course, that meant that Steve needed to be crafty and change things up right before Eddie’s vision whited out and orgasm overtook him. His hips came to a screeching halt, dragging a punched out groan from the pit of Eddie’s chest. Eddie tried not to look too perturbed but he must not have succeeded. Steve leaned down to kiss him with a soft chuckle. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Later, Eddie found himself on his hands and knees at the edge of the bed. Steve was behind him, standing in the obscene spread of Eddie’s legs. After directing Eddie into that position, Steve took his time tracing every inch of Eddie’s body with his lips and fingers. Steve’s strong hands dug into the clenched muscle of Eddie’s shoulders, working out knots and aches while his lips distracted. Eddie white knuckled the sheets as Steve mapped out his spine and the shapely curve of his ass.

Steve spent quite a bit of time appreciating Eddie’s ass.

In fact, he was still there, enjoying the pale skin while the tip of his tongue took Eddie apart. It was shocking, Steve instigating something so personal and intimate. Yet, it wasn’t really, either. Steve was a giver in all senses of the word. He liked to take care of the people that were near and dear to him. Thinking that physical intimacy was going to be any different would’ve been naïve. Despite knowing that, Eddie was still taken aback to realize what that truly meant. Aside from a brief second where Eddie felt Steve thrust against his leg, there hadn’t been another moment of their intimacy that wasn’t somehow focused on Eddie.

“Goddamn you’re so good at that,” Eddie panted through moans that were scratching his throat. He wasn’t all that sure what he was making noises about, anymore – all of the stimuli happening to and around him made Eddie’s skin so sensitive that the slightest brush of the sheets against it made him shiver. Though, it was hard to deny that Steve’s tongue and lips were clever, skilled, and pulling him apart.

----

Steve gave Eddie’s hole one last lick before pulling away. He sucked in a couple of large breaths to relieve the ache in his screaming lungs – not for the first time, Steve wished he didn’t have to take such trivial things into account. If possible, Steve would’ve drowned himself in his own spit and the taste of such a forbidden place on Eddie’s body. Shaking his head of the thought, Steve turned his attention to Eddie’s compliment, instead.

If the older boy knew how many girls asked to be rimmed, Steve was sure Eddie would be shocked. Despite never doing anything physical with a boy, Steve knew enough about the mechanics to puzzle the rest out as he went. Between the porn he discreetly rented from Family Video and the magazines he smuggled back from the city, Steve had the know how to at least not make himself look like a bumbling fool.

Deciding not to verbally reply, Steve ducked down to trace Eddie’s rim again, proving his prowess with actions instead of words. For the most part, Steve wasn’t all that good with the verbal exchanges, and he liked the way Eddie sounded when Steve touched him. In the long run, being more physically inclined seemed like the most pleasurable option – for him and Eddie both.

There was a murmured conversation about condoms and the position they were in before Steve even thought about yanking open his bedside drawer. Steve wanted to make sure Eddie enjoyed himself enough to come back again and again – rushing through prep just to do something wrong was the worst kind of counterproductive. By the time Steve was two fingers deep, he felt good about his decision – Eddie was relaxed and completely absorbed in everything Steve was doing.

With long distracting kisses down Eddie’s back, Steve used his fingers to open him up. The digits were wide and long, perfect for sports and drumming and taking people apart with just his touch. Steve enjoyed the process of learning to navigate what got Eddie going, only to play with that knowledge to drag his own name from Eddie’s red lips in return. With one, then two, and then three fingers, Steve carved out a place for himself within Eddie he hoped to visit and cultivate for as long as the other would have him. He scissored his fingers apart and brushed the tips of them against Eddie’s swollen prostate when the fit became to be too much. It was a glorious experience to watch Eddie’s body spread apart and give into Steve entirely.

When Eddie’s moans turned into “please” and “I’m ready” and “fuck me” Steve could do nothing but obey. He was gentle in the way he pulled his fingers out of Eddie – the gasp that escaped Eddie’s mouth sounded like a sweet mix of wanting more and disappointment because of the empty space. Steve was quick to remedy that, though. He tore the edge of the condom with his teeth, spitting the paper out onto the floor where the package quickly followed. His jaw dropped at the feeling of a hand finally wrapping around his own cock. It was short lived as Steve lingered just long enough to get the condom on and not a second longer. The entirety of his body was already on edge – there wasn’t any reason to tempt fate when the ultimate prize stretched himself out so beautifully before Steve.

Steve kept one hand on the base of his cock while the other gripped Eddie’s hip. His fingers clenched tightly around pale skin that went red under his grip. Secretly, Steve was excited to see if his fingers left bruises behind. Circling the tip of his cock around Eddie’s rim, Steve used the hold on Eddie’s hip to pull back while he thrust forward. There was a tense second where Steve bit into his bottom lip to keep from bottoming out too quickly against the tight muscle keeping him immobile. After a long breath, Eddie relaxed and Steve slid right in. Despite the diligent prep, Eddie was still ruthlessly tight and warmer than anything Steve had ever experienced. “Holy shit, you’re so tight, Eddie – “ The words were gasped out in hopes of distracting himself enough not to come undone right then and there.

Eddie looking over his shoulder with lust blown eyes didn’t help one bit. His stomach tightened considerably, making Steve gasp. Though, Eddie’s “it’s been a while” worked – Steve’s brain came back online and the urge to break apart receded. Instead, an intolerable itch to serve and drive Eddie insane took its place. With both hands on Eddie’s hips, Steve pulled out until just the tip remained and Eddie’s hole fluttered around him. He was slow to press back inside.

Repeating that over and over again, Steve felt Eddie really start to relax around him. The hunch in Eddie’s back evened out and moans replaced heavy breathing. Steve smiled at the vision of Eddie Munson finally giving into him completely. It was so much easier to bottom out, so Steve stopped pushing the breaks so hard and really started to thrust. Every press inside caused a messy slap of skin on skin that echoed around the room. Soon, the symphony of their joining became the only recognizable sound. Much like on the stage, Steve and Eddie made good music together. Steve was certain that with a little tuning and practice, they’d create masterpieces.

As the heated overtaking of Steve’s orgasm approached, the need for closeness got to a boiling point. Steve gave Eddie’s hips one last squeeze before letting go to grab the base of his cock. Eddie was quick to turn and glance at Steve over his shoulder, an adorable sort of panic in his eye. “I just want you to turn over,” Steve reassured softly. To prove his point, he climbed up onto the bed, invading Eddie’s space. “I want to kiss you when I cum.”

The jolt of heat from Steve’s words had Eddie reaching down to grip the base of his dick. It was surprisingly sexy to hear Steve admit to something so simply intimate when he’d just been pummeling Eddie’s ass into the mattress. The innocence in such a ludicrously obscene situation was the perfect counter point to the heat already burning Eddie up. After a couple of long breaths and a quick hold on for dear life, Eddie was in control of himself again enough to roll over onto his back.

Steve didn’t waste any time climbing back into the vee of Eddie’s legs to slip inside again. They harmonized a groan of relief when Steve’s hips settled against the back of Eddie’s thighs. Wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips, Eddie tapped Steve’s lower back with his heel to get him to start moving again. The beautiful boy ripping him to shreds didn’t disappoint. Steve’s hips settled into a glorious pace that would knock Eddie over the edge in no time.

----

Impatient hands dug into Steve’s sweaty hair to tug him down. Eddie closed the remaining space and kissed Steve hard. As their tongues tangled and Steve drove into his prostate with scarily good accuracy, Eddie’s grip on control loosened until he was falling into nothingness with a shout of Steve’s name. The heat in his stomach exploded into his hands and legs and arms and feet – Eddie felt the tingles in the deep roots of his fucking teeth. He was too preoccupied with his own ruin to watch Steve crumble to bits, but from the looks of things, Eddie was going to have plenty of opportunities to make up for it.

He welcomed the heavy sag of Steve’s body; Eddie opened his arms and pulled Steve impossibly closer. They shared space and breath until pulling out and cleaning up became particularly necessary. Eddie wobbled on heavy legs into Steve’s ensuite, sharing the sink and splashing water on each other as lube and sweat and cum was washed from their skin. It wasn’t awkward or stiff in the aftermath and Eddie couldn’t have been happier. Steve pulled him close to kiss him, hugged him tight from behind – every move the younger boy made spoke of affection and contentment, not just lust and attraction. Eddie wasn’t sure he’d be able to take Steve declaring the amazing thing that just happened as a one-time thing.

Eddie was further convinced of Steve’s intention to keep him around when he was pulled back to the bed and deposited there. Steve joined him a second later, tugging Eddie close without thought or hesitation or asking for permission. He simply wrapped his arms around Eddie and shifted until they were pressed together in all their nooks and crannies. Eddie was too weak to stop it and too happy to think about anything other than the soothing pass of Steve’s fingers through his hair.

After a while, Steve mumbled “can I take you on a date?” into the silence of the room. Eddie held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn’t and nothing happened, Eddie hesitantly nodded his head. While he knew it wasn’t ever a good idea to get involved with a friend that would be devastating to lose, Eddie also understood the notion of timing and grabbing onto something good when it presented itself. He took plenty of careless chances throughout his life – what did it say about him if he passed up something that was well thought out and seemingly right? Not anything worth being proud of, that’s for sure.

When one date turned into two and that cascaded into a dozen more which slipped into a real relationship, Eddie found that being with Steve was a lot like the music they played together. Loud and obnoxious and filled with complication and chaos. Yet, when put together in that delicate sort of harmony, it all worked. Consonance and dissonance balanced each other out to create sound that was beautiful to the right sets of ears.

Like most couples, Eddie and Steve made very little sense together. That was the best part, though – some of the greatest things in life came from the joining of opposites that no one ever thought to put together. Once the combination was made, though, there was no telling where in the sky the limit was. Eddie hoped they never found that boundary – the world was there for the taking and Eddie couldn’t wait to navigate it with Steve by his side.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve/eddie #eddie/steve #steveddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #bobbie writes #steddie fanfic #steddie fics #we'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down

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fanficwritersworld · 11 months

Text

Fatal Love

Summary: The real reason Nora is working with Thawne. based on episode 18 of season 5

Pairing: Nora West-Allen x Ramon!Reader

Requested: by @neothegayturtle Hope you like it, went a little off sorry.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: blood, metions of death and dying, barry allen salt

A/N: i kinda wanted to write more but didn't want to get carried away. if anyone wants a part two let me know

Masterlist|Prompt List

Team Flash were quick to open Nora’s journal. While the writing was unreadable to them without the quantum computer. But Barry had seen glimpses of the English written notes and pictures. That’s when they saw one picture in particular. It was a girl they had never seen before. She was smiling brightly as she held up a degree in her hands.

Nora sat in the cell, her sobs echoing around her and she curled into a ball in the corner of the cell. She failed. She failed to stop him and now her father hates her. If only he knew the real reason behind her forced alliance with his worse enemy. If only she had told him about her. About (Y/N) (L/N).

“Has Nora ever mentioned a (Y/N) (L/N)?” Iris questioned, not remembering the name. “No, anything in her journal?” Barry asked, looking up at Cisco. The man search through the entries, and almost every one of them mentioned her” Cisco looked in shock. “What’s so special about this (Y/N) kid?” Ralph asked out loud. Sherloque pulled up a specific entry that he thought Team Flash might need to hear. “It started with music…”

2039 - Central City

Eighteen-year-old Nora walked into her senior prom. She wore a simple lilac dress to her knees with some white gold accents. Her hair was curled as she wandered around. It was normal enough in the future to go to prom alone, Nora slightly wished she didn’t go at all.

She sat by the stage, listening to the band that her school had hired. Even in this decade, real music done by people was very appreciated after the whole A.I fiasco in the 2020s. “West-Allen, what’s got you so blue?” a voice called out from behind her.

(Y/N) (L/N)

She was Nora’s science partner that year. They didn’t talk much but Nora kinda wished she did. You weren’t wearing any formal wear, just your favourite outfit and a nice jacket. You held a guitar as you decided to sit next to Nora. “I hate these things. I’ve been going to the Policemen Balls since I was a kid so I never really looked forward to these things” Nora explained, shrugging her shoulders. “Well… Nora West-Allen, wanna join me on stage?” You asked very fancily.

Nora rolled her eyes. “I don’t play or sing” She told you. “I’ve seen you listen to music West-Allen, drumming your fingers to the beat as you use everything around you like a drumkit” You told her, pulling her up to stand next to you. Nora blushed at your observation. “I haven’t played in years” Nora tried to lie her way out only for you to put a pair of drumsticks in her hands.

“Come one pretty girl, your playing with me” You told her before dragging her onto the stage.

2019

“So (Y/N) was Nora’s girlfriend” Caitlin spoke, reading the rest of the entry. Everyone was shocked, why hadn’t Nora said anything? That’s when a breach opened up in the middle of the cortex. Stepping out from it was…you. “I still am, where is Nora?” You asked, glaring at Barry. “Look, (Y/N) Nora is-” Barry started to explain before you put your hand up to stop him. “Working with Thawne, yeah I know” You finished, not wanting to deal with your girl’s paranoid father. “She’s doing it for me. Thawne is the only one who could help Nora time travel to help me” You told him, yanking the journal you gifted Nora from his clutches. “Why? What happened to you?” Cisco asked you.

“My powers… I was corrupted by the dagger. Nora’s trying to destroy it so save me” You explained to them, only for Barry to scoff at your problem. “How do we know you’re not the one that put Thawne in Nora’s head” He questions you, walking up to you with his arms crossed. “‘Cause I’m like Nora…a kid from Team Flash. (L/N) is my birth mother’s name. My full name is (Y/N) (L/N)- Ramon, daughter of Vibe” You told him, turning a pin on your jacket. With pixelated cubes, your outfit reveals a more feminine version of Cisco’s suit with his goggles placed on top of your head.

“And it’s time you see the real story” You told them all. Raising your hands above your head, you released a dark (F/C) breach wave before slamming it onto the ground. Everyone's eyes began to glow (F/C).

2049

Nora and her best friend Lia sat at their desk in CCPD’s CSI Lab. You walk in with two big bags of Belly Burger. “I brought the food now spill. What requires my expertise” You smiled, kissing Nora’s cheek and you put the food on the table. “Someone’s stealing chemicals” Nora explained, handing you the police report. “Your girlfriend thinks it was a speedster” Lia snickered, making Nora stick her tongue out.

You gave your girlfriend a ‘really’ look as you closed the file. “I remember some of these chemicals from one of my Papa’s old cases, I’ll ask Joe if I can get access” You told her, seeing Nora looking at her board with her mom’s most famous article. ‘FLASH VANISHES IN CRISIS’ and the last case her father ever had and failed to solve…‘WHO IS CICADA'

“Hey pretty, how about we get those files together?” You offered, placing your head on her shoulder. Nora nodded with a soft smile before bidding Lia farewell. You and Nora walked into the old storage room, searching for the files from 2016. “So how’s Mama Iris?” You asked Nora, closing another drawer. “God, she’s coming back from Keystone tonight. Seemed nervous on the phone though” Nora answered, flipping through the files.

“You know speedsters haven’t been around since the Flash disappeared right?” You changed the conversation. Nora looked at you with a slightly annoyed face. “(N/N), I know it’s weird that I want to find out who Cicada is but-” You cut the girl off. “It was the only case your dad couldn’t solve and you feel like solving it will bring you closer to him” You finished with a sympathetic look. Nora slumped as you walked over to her.

“I know it’s hard, my mom bailed around the same time but you got Mama Iris and I have my Papa. And we’ve got each other” You told her, kissing her temple. You knew one of the many reasons they asked for your unique expertise was so Lia could get you to talk Nora down when she got a little ‘excessive’. Your gauntlet pinged, you opened the message. “Lia’s got the security footage” You told Nora before you both ran back to their lab.

Nora was right. A speedster with white lightning was stealing chemicals. Let’s just say Lia will not be allowed to forget that for a long time. Now you and your girlfriend were in the Flash Museum looking for evidence about a white lightning-clad speedster. You felt slightly uncomfortable in the room, the reverse flash display made your heart stop.

“Any luck babe?” You asked Nora as she finished the first display. But by then all the monitors showed the closing signs for the museum. “Shrap!” Nora scolded herself as Mr Myles spoke on the intercom about closing. “Also Nora West-Allen please call your mother is calling you and (Y/N) (L/N) wish your abuela happy birthday” Mr Myles spoke after his usual announcement. You both had a minor heart attack by this and were quick to call your relatives.

Nora walked ahead of you as you dial your Abuela’s archaic phone. “Hola abuela, feliz cumpleaños... Lo siento Nora y yo estamos en el trabajo... No, aún no he preguntado ... Dile a papá que traeré la cena... La abuela deja de preguntar ... Perdón por mi tono te amo demasiado adiós” You hung up quicky, seeing Nora pressed against a wall.

“Querida? You okay?” You asked her. Nora looked at you with a defeated smile. “I’m okay, Lia has someone at OLLINS who can help with why the speedster is stealing the chemicals” Nora changed the subject. You stopped her from moving away, “Nora, you can talk to me” You told her. “I know” Nora smiled, kissing your cheek.

The scientist at OLIINS told you three that whatever the speedster was using the chemicals for, they could only be used based on a structure. “Total bust” You kicked air as you three walked out. “We can’t wait for another lab to get hit” Nora told you both. That’s when a bright flash of white passed you three, knocking you onto the floor. Nora was quick to help you up.

“Holy Shrap!” Nora and Lia squealed, running back into the laboratory. The scientist was on the floor as the speedster stood before them. He was silent, his eyes were covered by the black holes of his mask. You were quick to stand in front of Nora and Lia. “Oh my God” Nora gasped.

“Yes, I am a God” The speedster spoke menacingly. “The God of Speed” He snarled, lightning manifesting from his palms. “Girls go!” You shouted, holding your arms out to block them. Lia ran but Nora stayed put. “Nora go!” You shouted at her.

It was too late, you both were thrown back into the shelf behind you, breaking the glasses filled with chemicals. The last thing you did was reach out for Nora, “Queri-” You tried to speak before your eyes shut.

You could hear…Lady Gaga? You opened your eyes, feeling lightheaded as you tried to sit up. “I knew an oldie would do the trick with you two” Lia smiled, turning off the music. “Don’t freak out but you're in a hospital. Me for this burn and you too for passing out” Lia explained, Nora stayed calm while you were the first to panic. “No, no, no hago dos cosas. Hospitales e insuficiencia cardíaca” You rambled, jumping out of the bed. You went straight over to Nora, making sure your girlfriend was ok. “ Mi vida, are you okay? I can call the best doctor in the country if you don’t feel okay” You asked her, checking her temperature with eh back of your hand. “You know the best doctor in the country?” Lia rolled her eyes, thinking you were exaggerating. You looked at her seriously. “Yeah, she’s my godmother” You answered before Nora decided to sit up.

“Baby I’m fine. I feel fine actually, my fingers are a little tingly but other than that I feel good” Nora told you, resting her head on your shoulder. “And you (Y/N)?” Lia asked. “Dunno, I feel like someone of blasting music right into my veins. It’s a vibe” You answered, rubbing Nora’s shoulder. “Good, I was so worried. The doctor said you were hit with 500 billion Jules of lightning…so don’t get mad” Lia slightly cringed before the doors opened up.

An older-looking Cisco Ramon. His hair was tied back loosely with a few thick strands of grey. He wore a nerdy jumper as he ran towards you. “Mi hija! Estás bien? Estás herido? Necesito llamar a tu tía Caity?” He asked you, holding your face in his hands.

“Papá, estoy bien, realmente no hay necesidad de llamar a la tía” You told him, giving Lia a side eye. Your dad had enough worries to supply the nation. “Gracias a la fuerza” He sighed, kissing your forehead. “Um, Mr Ramon the doctors need you to fill out some forms” Lia spoke up timidly. Cisco nodded before bidding you farewell.

“Chica, first you call my Papá and you then kick him out?” You raised your eyebrow at the blonde. “Yeah because while Mrs West-Allen is nonstop calling me, I didn’t tell your parents about these” Lia was careful as she held up two glass cylinders with a burnt-out metal thing in each.

“What are those?” You asked, taking one in your hands. “Piece of shrapnel maybe? They had to use the defibs on you both. When they did they found those underneath the scars on your shoulders” Lia explained.

You stood up, recognizing the piece of metal. “I need to talk to my Dad!” You shouted before running out of the room. You ran up to your father the cylinder in hand. “Papá!” You called out grabbing his attention. The second you grabbed his arm, you zoned out. You could see Vibe fighting in the past and your Dad being killed by a speedster. You gasped as you let go of your father, dropping the cylinder. Cisco caught it before it reached the floor. Cisco looked at you with worried eyes as blood trickled down your nose.

“Mi hija, hay algo que debes saber”

The entire vibe stopped, everyone was back to seeing STAR Lab’s cortex. You however didn’t look too good as you dropped onto the floor, blood gushing from your nose and the corner of your mouth. “Long…story short. That speedster killed our friend. My powers were affected by the remains of the dagger causing me to be like this. She’s only working with Thawne to save me. As long as that dagger is intact, the more my powers will hurt me. But that’s not why I came here” You coughed up blood, struggling to get up. Cisco went to help you, seeing his kid from the future hurt because of him.

“Why did you come back?” Iris asked you as you struggled to stand. “To stop her. That dagger is the only thing keeping Thawne in his cage. I can’t let her choose me over everyone else” You told her, coughing once more.

Nora hated the dark. Ever since she was a kid. But with you, it made the darkness more bearable. You would hum lullabies your Abuela taught you, holding Nora safe in your arms as she listened to your heartbeat. Now, you were going to die because of her.

The sounds of her cell being brought forward took her thoughts as the light began to seep through. Barry and Cisco stood in front of her, solemn faces as she stood up. “Are you gonna send me home?” Nora asked her father, who still had a look of disappointment on his face. Barry didn’t speak as he opened the cell, making Nora tilt her head. “Dad what ar-”

Nora found your face, a soft smile as you looked at her with tears of joy. “Mi amor” You spoke softly as Nora used her speed to run into your arms. You held Nora tightly, burying your head in the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry” Nora sobbed, clinging to you as her own life depended on it.

“It’s okay mi amor, it’s okay” you told her, kissing her head as you held your crying girlfriend

Translations:

Hola abuela, feliz cumpleaños... Lo siento Nora y yo estamos en el trabajo... No, aún no he preguntado ... Dile a papá que traeré la cena... La abuela deja de preguntar ... Perdón por mi tono te amo demasiado adiós - Hello grandma, happy birthday… Sorry Nora and I are at work… No, I haven't asked yet… Tell Dad I'll bring dinner… Grandma stop asking… Sorry for my tone I love you too goodbye.

Querida - Dear

No, no, no hago dos cosas. Hospitales e insuficiencia cardíaca - No, no, I don't do two things. Hospitals and heart failure

Mi vida - my life

Mi hija! Estás bien? Estás herido? Necesito llamar a tu tía Caity? - My daughter! Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do I need to call your Aunt Caity?

Papá, estoy bien, realmente no hay necesidad de llamar a la tía - Dad, I'm fine, there's really no need to call Auntie

Gracias a la fuerza - Thank the Force

Chica - Girl

Mi hija, hay algo que debes saber - My daughter, there's something you should know

Mi amor - my love

#nora west allen imagine #nora west allen #nora west allen x ramon reader #nora west allen x reader #the flash season 5 imagine #the flash

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