#Funky House Playlist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!reader x biker!Steve

Chapter 15: Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck

summary: tensions are high as the last few chapters come to a head. Now that Craig has you, and none of the gang knows where you are, panic ensues. Eddie has to deal with an unwanted interaction with an ex, while Steve finds out the truth about Charlene. Astrid gets a bad feeling and thinks Steve might be hurt, meanwhile you decide to take matters into your own hands and deal with Craig in order to escape. wc: 10.7k

masterlist playlist

WARNINGS: 18+ONLY, angst, a gun, typical series violence, gunshots, reader being held against her will, abusive ex, stabbing, hand to hand combat, some violence toward women (which I do not condone under any circumstances), manipulation, dark themes, reader fights back, revenge, hurt and comfort, sex with someone other than reader (not Eddie), premonitions, murder, being chased, aggression. protective!eddie, protective!steve, slightly gigolo!steve. Header photo is not meant to be reader.

author's note: In this chapter, I'm making up for the fact that 90's tow truck driver Eddie and the rest of the MC would've had beepers, but, alas, I failed to mention them before. I've been staring at this for so long now, I need to post it. Really hope you enjoy, and I look forward to hearing what you all think.

"It ought to be easy, ought to be simple enough Man meets a woman and they fall in love But this house is haunted and the ride gets rough you’ve got to learn to live with what you can’t rise above If you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love."

Tunnel of Love, Bruce Springsteen

-------

(This chapter starts of exactly where part 14 ended)

Just as Robin was about to reach out and catch Steve’s elbow, the bride, Daphne, jumped in front of her.

“You made it! I’m so happy I could cry!” Daphne hugged her tight and, over her shoulder, Robin watched Steve and Charlene disappear into the crowd, helplessly. The wedding was packed, but she was sure she could find him as soon as she was done with a polite chat.

She figured there wasn’t anything too bad that could happen in five minutes.

A minute or two into acting interested in the conversation Daphne and one of her bridesmaids was having, Robin turned around to gesture at you—to make the introductions—-but you were nowhere to be found. Daphne talked for a bit longer and Robin pretended to listen, but she was distracted, and the bad feeling in her gut was making her fidgety.

Good Vibrations by Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch ended, quickly to be replaced by What I Am by Edie Brickell, and Robin excused herself to go and look for you, apologizing to the bride profusely. Telling Steve that Charlene was an obsessive psycho didn’t feel as important in that moment—-she knew Steve could handle himself. But you? You were being stalked by a notoriously abusive ex and now Robin had no idea where you were. She should not have run off like that without you, and now she was kicking herself.

As Robin turned on her heel trying to spot you in the crowded lobby, Steve and Charlene were about to bypass the people on the dancefloor and make their way up to the hotel room. Steve didn’t know what was happening, at first, when she made the bold move of grabbing his hand in the crowd and pulling him closer.

“Hey, hey now,” he said in her ear over the twang of the music. “Should we be doing that where people can see us?”

Charlene sent her hand down to massage his cock, and then she leaned in and licked his earlobe. “I don’t care anymore,” she replied, leading him out of the low-lit reception hall and down the hallway.

Steve didn’t really know what that meant, and he hoped she wasn’t getting the wrong idea. If she wanted to flush her marriage down the toilet—-awesome—-but Steve didn’t want to be the reason. He had no intention to continue to see her after that evening, unless she was paying him, and he had every intention of making that clear in the elevator, but then she was on her knees with his cock in her mouth and he forgot what he was going to say.

—----------

Eddie rumbled into the parking lot on his chopper, ignoring the valet as he tried to tell him which way to go. He parked as close as he could to the building, sliding in next to a limousine, even though there was no parking space there, and gave a blank stare to the guys who were about to try and ask him to move it.

He yanked the main door open, eyes darting around the people in the lobby. He had no idea where to start looking for you, and that filled him with a frustration that made a growl escape his chest. The crease in his forehead softened when he felt two arms go around him from behind, but then one glance down at the hands, and he knew it wasn’t you.

“What the—” the relief he felt at the idea of turning around to kiss you was abruptly stifled.

“Hey baby,” Melanie cooed. She reached up to brush his bangs off his forehead like she used to in the old days, but Eddie moved his head away and blocked her hand.

He looked around before leaning forward to whisper curtly, “you just can’t take a hint, can you?”

Melanie settled back, bracketing her hands on either side of her hips. She had on an impossibly short, sequined lime green dress with dark red lipstick and it looked like she should’ve been on a stripper pole, not at a wedding. “Why do you hate me so much, Eddie? I gave you the best years of my life, the least you could do is be civil with me.”

Eddie frowned, moving to walk by her.

“Please, Eddie!” She screamed it, catching his arm.

Eddie hitched his shoulders up to his ears in frustration, cringing at the way so many people turned to stare at him. He moved in a circle, checking the crowd for you as he went, and then came back to face Melanie with weary reluctance.

“What do you want from me, Mel?” He asked, hoping it would be a quick fix so he could continue on with his night.

Melanie slid the tip of her tongue along her top lip. “Listen, I know I hurt you, okay? I know it was bad. But I’m a totally different person now, I’ve changed.”

Eddie cocked his head. “Good for you. What does that have to do with me?”

“Let me prove it to you,” she reached for his arm again and he let her hold it this time, hoping to speed things along. “Have a drink with me and let’s talk. I really miss you, Eddie,” she could tell he was about to interrupt and she put her hand up to stop him. “You told me once that I was the love of your life, that you’d never love anyone more than me, and I know a part of you meant it.”

Eddie cringed at the memory of the young, impressionable boy he was back then, so pussy drunk that he didn’t know which end was up. Did he mean it when he said it back then? Yes, from the bottom of his horny soul. Did a part of him still feel the same way? Not a single drop. What he’d felt for Melanie all those years ago paled in comparison to the level of devotion he had for you. He was a man now, determined not to make the same mistakes that plagued him in his boyhood.

Eddie took a deep breath, eyeballing the crowd again. “Okay, listen to me,” he took hold of Melanie’s bare arm, holding her firmly, and tilted his chin down to look her directly in the eye. “What we had has been long over for years now. I don’t know what I’ve done to possibly lead you on to believe there could ever be anything between us ever again, but I need you to get it through your fucking head that I don’t love you anymore. Things will never be like they were. I wish you well, but I don’t want you in my life, even as a friend. I need you to respect this. Nod if you understand.”

“Do you not want me in your life because your new girlfriend will get jealous?” Her mouth fixed in a mischievous grin, as if she’d completely missed the point of everything he just said.

“Fucking, goddamn it Melanie,” Eddie hissed, and then he ran both of his hands through his hair and gripped his fingers in at the roots, snapping his eyes shut to try and calm his frustration. “I can’t do this right now, I’ve got more important shit going on,” he shook his head and dropped his hands, turning to head in the opposite direction. “We’re done, totally done. Forever. I don’t want to ever see you again, Mel. Don’t call, don’t show up. Just go back to wherever and stay there. Have a nice life.”

He was a few steps away when she shouted to get his attention again. “I know where your girl is, if that’s who you’re looking for,” she had her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face when he turned to regard her again. “She left with some dude, if that means anything to you. They were holding each other pretty close and if you ask me—-”

But the last word got caught in her throat as Eddie barreled down on her, gripping her arms so tight, his rings pinched her flesh. He shook her a few times, making her eyes go wide. “You’re hurting me!” She balked.

“Tell me where they went,” he spoke with so much force, he accidentally spit on her.

—----

Robin caught sight of Eddie and started to make her way to the other side of the lobby, relieved, but then she saw who Eddie was talking to.

She made a face and stopped in her tracks for a beat. “Melanie?” She asked it to herself, under her breath. Robin knew she was the last person on earth Eddie would want to see, let alone be standing in such close proximity to. Eddie started to walk away, but then he turned back around and grabbed Melanie with a force that made Robin gasp. He could be a violent person, sure, but never with women, and it worried her to think of what she might’ve said to him.

Everyone was getting drunker and more oblivious to the people around them, so she worked hard to maneuver her way through the clueless party goers as What is Love by Haddaway jolted from the dance hall.

“Hey, Eddie!” She cupped her hand over one side of her mouth to shout it, but then she watched helplessly from a distance as Eddie and Melanie went down the hall and disappeared from view. What the hell was he doing with her—where the fuck were they going?

—-----

Craig had a room in the hotel, and that is where he took you.

As much as you were afraid of Craig, you also knew how to handle him in situations like this. To fight him, to argue with him, would only make things worse. He wasn’t the type to feel much empathy for any of the pain others felt; his pain and emotional distress were the only things that mattered. If you fought him, or if you tried to run, he wouldn’t hesitate to terrorize your friends. The thought made you shiver—you couldn’t let him get his hands on anyone else. He could take whatever he wanted from you in exchange for their peace.

Craig was also extremely stupid, and as long as you placated and went along with him—you’d have more time to think about your next move instead of struggling and wasting your energy. You didn’t put it past him to drug you and throw you in the back of his SUV, so you put on your Academy Award winning “this is fine” face while your mind raced for a plan.

Once he closed the door to his hotel room and put the deadbolt on, he took you in his arms, pulling you in for an embrace. “Ahh, now–isn’t this nice?”

You nodded against his shoulder as your eyes darted around for something sharp. “It really is. I’m glad you came to find me.”

He pulled away to smile down at you; thin lips stretching to expose perfectly white teeth. “See, now, there’s my girl,” he tipped your chin with the crook of his finger and then planted a kiss on your forehead.

You were sure he brought you up there to have sex with you, and the thought made your stomach churn—-you were prepared to rip his balls off before that happened. Craig was really strong though, and he could kill a man twice your size with his bare hands, so you had to find a way to battle with your wits.

“Have a seat,” he motioned to the bed in front of the TV, and then he grabbed the remote. “You wanna check and see what is on pay per view? We can order room service. Are you hungry?”

Such normal questions for such an abnormal and unfortunate situation.

You sat down cautiously, keeping your back stiff and straight. You noticed a huge black duffel bag sitting on the floor, and it looked like the type of thing he usually carried all of his weapons in.

“This is okay,” you gestured to the episode of Three’s Company that popped on.

He handed you the remote as he bent down to kiss your temple. “I’m going to wash my hands. Stay here, alright?”

You gave him a wink. “Of course I’ll stay here, sugar plum. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He sighed, offering a dreaming expression. “I’ve missed you so much, it hurts.”

“That’s sweet,” you offered, turning your attention back to the tv as he went around the corner to the bathroom. You got up and walked slowly to the window to see what you could see, talking to him all the while to keep him satiated. “I could definitely eat. Maybe room service wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

You held the rod and slid the curtain open a few inches, realizing you were above the middle section of the parking lot. Could you see your car from there? You didn’t have time to check; it was too dark and you heard the water shut off in the bathroom.

“Tsk, tsk,” he said, stepping back out into the hall so he could see you as he dried his hands off. “Step back from the window, honey, I don’t want you to ruin our fun with one of your clever ideas.”

“Oh I was just curious,” you were casual about it, making a point to leave the curtain open a bit. “If any of my friends were looking for me.”

“Oh they might try,” he undid the buttons on the cuffs of his white dress shirt and rolled up each sleeve, exposing faded military tattoos on his forearms. “But I booked this room under an alias. Plus, no one saw us leave, so your friends will be scrambling around like chickens with their heads cut off.” He emphasized the word “friends” in a sarcastic way, as if they weren’t that at all.

“I’m sure they’ll just think I went home,” you said, which was the furthest from the truth. You thought about Robin going crazy trying to find you. You wouldn’t be surprised if she worked her way up every floor, knocking on every door.

He sat down on the bed next to you with a bounce and took your hand, lifting it up to kiss the back of it. “Have I told you yet how beautiful you are tonight?”

“A few times,” you couldn’t help but lean away when he came in closer. “You told me downstairs and in the elevator.”

He wrapped his arm around the side of your hip and pulled you to him. “C’mon now, give daddy some sugar,” he cooed, diving his lips in for another attempt.

But you dodged him again. You could feel yourself blowing it, and you knew you needed to comply in order to find a way out of this, but the thought of being intimate with him made you want to dig your own eyes out with a spoon.

“I don’t know if I’m ready…for that,” you managed. “Too soon, I think. Just give me a little time…to get used to you again.”

Craig grabbed your jaw, squeezing your mouth together so tight, your lips puckered, yanking your head to make you look at him. His eyes were dark now, narrowing on you. His tone was ice cold, “Oh but you’ll kiss him won’t you? That filthy dirty biker? You make me sick.”

You swallowed hard, and in your mind, you considered the ballpoint pen next to the pad of paper on the desk. If you could get a hold of it, you could stab him in the side of the throat.

But, if you made the decision to wound Craig, you had to be willing to go all-in.

You had to be willing to end him.

—-------

Steve waited to cum until he was back in the hotel suite. Charlene got on the bed and sucked him off the rest of the way while she came using the vibrator she carried around in her handbag. It turned Steve on to know that she always had it with her—he’d never been with a woman who was so incredibly sexually charged before.

He came on her face, and then she licked it up and rubbed it down her breasts. They got in the shower together after that, and the thought crossed his mind that he should go down and have a drink with you and Robin, but then his dick took over again and he forgot.

The suite was huge, and while Steve lounged on the sofa in one of their complimentary robes looking over the room service menu, Charlene sat down on the bed to rub lotion on her legs.

She smiled over at him. “The life of leisure looks good on you.”

Steve lifted his arms up and glanced down at himself. “You think? Yeah, I could definitely do with some more of this.” The fridge was fully stocked with booze and sparkling water and other goodies, and Steve had raided it like a little kid at Charlene’s urging. He was on his second fancy beer and third bag of pretzels.

“You should come with me to Greece this winter,” she worked the lotion down around her manicured feet, feeling suddenly too shy to look at him. “My friend has a house there, and we could charter a yacht, play on the beach, eat and fuck until we pass out. And then do it all over again the next day.”

Steve flipped the page on the menu, eyes glancing over the seafood section as he plucked at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Sounds good. I’ll have my secretary clear my schedule.”

“I’m serious,” she laughed, rolling over onto her stomach to face him, kicking her feet up behind her. “Wouldn’t you like to spend more time with me?”

Steve shut the menu and met her eyes. “Well, sure, I mean, but I can’t just take off for a week to wherever, sweetheart. This man of leisure is living paycheck to paycheck over here.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to worry about that,” she assured him, resting her chin in her palm. “I’ll pay your rent and whatever else you need. Give you some spending money. You won’t have to pay for anything, unless you want to buy me something pretty.”

“Yeah?” Steve smirked. “What’s the catch, angel? You gonna sell me to the highest bidder for some black-market organ donation once we get there?”

“No catch,” she shook her head. “It’s just hard to find good companionship these days.”

He sucked his bottom lip through his teeth. It all sounded a little too good to be true, but he would be lying if he said the offer wasn’t tempting. Fucking Greece? He’d only been out of the state a few times in his whole life, and it had all been for MC related stuff.

“You could even bring Oliver,” she continued, looking down at the bedspread. “I could pay for a nanny to travel with us, so we could have time alone.”

That made Steve frown, and he searched his mind for how she would know that he had a son, but then the moment passed. He must’ve mentioned him at some point, accidentally.

But Charlene seemed harmless enough. Just a bored housewife with a smoking hot body.

She got off the bed and slinked over to stand next to him. He ran his hand up her leg under her robe until he was able to grab the apple of her ass, and then he spanked it.

“Did you decide what you want from the menu?” She asked, mussing up his hair. “Or we can still go out to dinner if you want.”

Steve tilted his head all the way back to look up at her, letting the menu slip to the ground. “Are you on the menu?” He asked, moving his hand around under the robe until his fingers found where they could sink in.

“For you? Always,” she said, and then she bent down to catch his mouth with hers.

—-------

Eddie had Melanie by the arm, and she tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he was way too strong---way too pissed off.

“And then where did they go?” Eddie was scowling at the numbers on the three different elevators. “Which floor?”

“I SAID I DON’T KNOW,” Melanie hissed, finally wiggling her arm away. “Jesus. I never saw you worry about me like this before.”

“Fuck,” Eddie started to pace. He was losing it, and he didn’t know where to start looking or how to find you. He wanted to rip the whole building down with his bare hands.

Another man’s voice stepped into the equation. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing to her? Leave her alone, you freak.”

Eddie spun around, eyes like daggers. It was some douchebag he didn’t recognize in a tux, even taller than Eddie, with a lime green bow tie and cummerbund, clearly there for the wedding. From the looks the guy was sharing with Melanie, it was probably her date.

“Just stay the fuck out of it, whoever you are,” Eddie warned.

Melanie stepped back with a little smile on her face, enjoying the tension over her that was building.

“I asked you a question, man,” the guy in the tux with the short blonde hair said as he came up behind Eddie to jab his palm into the back of his shoulder.

Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Eddie turned and swung on the guy.

Robin came into view and screamed, covering her mouth with her hands.

Eddie’s fist was like a brick, and the guy went down hard. The elevator opened and the four people inside yelped as he crashed in, with Eddie in hot pursuit.

Two people rushed out of the elevator, but another couple stood huddled in the back corner, afraid to move. Eddie lurched forward to grab the guy by the front of his coat and yanked him to his feet to pull him out of the compartment just long enough to send a jab to his ribs that made him double over, and then he pushed him down.

The elevator closed again with the frightened passengers still inside. The rest was a blur for Eddie as he got on top of the guy and started wailing on his face.

“Eddie, stop!” Robin tried to grab his arm on the back swing and the force almost knocked her over, but she did not relent. “DINGUS STOP!”

Somehow, the nickname seemed to snap him out of it, and, with a few sharp intakes of breath, Eddie got to his feet, panting, standing over the guy. The dude on the floor was somehow still conscious, but he probably wished he wasn’t one side of his face was mangled where Eddie’s rings broke the skin and there was blood dribbling from his mouth.

There were people gathered at the mouth of the hallway now, watching with slack jaws, and Robin was worried someone had already called the police. “Nothing to see here, people!” She called out, waving her hand, begging them to disperse.

Eddie was about to drop down and punch the guy again—just because—but Robin used all of her strength to forcefully push him back.

Eddie snapped his attention to Melanie and pointed at the guy on the ground. “Is this yours? Both of you get the fuck out of here before I—-”

Robin had only ever seen Steve like this—never Eddie. Normally, he possessed the most patience and composure out of everyone in their friend group.

She slapped him softly on his cheek to get his attention. “Hey, listen to me. I need you to fucking focus right now,” and then she snapped her fingers in the air in front of his face.

Eddie huffed a few heavy breaths out his nose and adjusted his Coffin Kings leather over his white tee. There was a sheen of sweat on his face and a few pieces of his hair clung to his cheek and forehead. Melanie was able to help her date to his feet, and Eddie watched them go with hard eyes and flared nostrils, silently begging the guy to throw him a dirty look or say something stupid. Thankfully, for Robin’s sake, the guy wobbled away with his arm over Melanie’s shoulder without a single glance back.

“Focus,” Robin repeated, snatching his chin. “Your girl is here somewhere, and I can’t find her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie jerked his head to evade her grasp. “She’s with that fucking psycho and I have no idea where to start looking.” He shut his eyes tight and winced. “I fucked up, Rob. I should’ve killed that guy when I had the chance. Now he has her. If he hurts her, Rob….”

“Hold on,” Robin frowned as she took in the information, her body flushing with guilt. “You know she’s with that Craig creep? How do you know?”

Eddie didn’t want to talk—he wanted to move.

Outside, through the glass front of the building, he watched a police cruiser pull up through the crowd. It did have its lights on, and whoever was driving didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but all the same, he hit a button on the panel and took hold of Robin’s arm, ready to pull her in when the doors slid open. She followed his gaze to the two cops that were now heading into the building, and panic seized her.

It was taking too long for the elevator to come, so when the one across the way opened, they darted there instead.

A woman got out of the elevator as they stepped in and quickly hit the button for one of the higher floors. A delivery driver carrying Chinese food was about to get in with them but decided against it at the last moment.

Once they were alone, Eddie answered her question. “Melanie saw them,” he breathed, falling back against the wall. “The description fits, and she said he had his arm around her,” Eddie cringed. The thought of him touching you made him want to punch something.

“Shit,” Robin said under her breath, feeling the thick weight of uncertainty hang in the confined space around them. “You don’t think he’d actually do anything to her, do you?”

Eddie eyes glazed over and shook his head, concentrating, unable to form words.

“Nice dress, by the way,” he said, referring to the strapless blue number that she now regretted ever buying, let alone wearing.

“Shut up.” She returned.

The doors opened at a floor that wasn’t theirs and Eddie told the two people waiting there to take the next one before he slammed the button again with the side of his fist.

Robin started to gnaw at her thumbnail. “Steve’s here somewhere too,” she let him know. “He came with that Charlene woman, the one you used to bone.”

Eddie froze, giving her an incredulous look. “And you let him?”

She held her arms out, raising her voice. “I just realized who she was a little bit ago. What am I, his fucking keeper? Besides, she offered him so much money to take her to this stupid thing, I don’t think he would’ve cared.”

Oh, Steve would care if he knew the whole story, Eddie thought to himself. And he’d really care if Charlene started targeting his family when he tried to end things with her or move on with someone else.

When the elevator finally dinged and opened at the floor they chose, there stood Steve.

In a white bathrobe carrying a bucket of ice.

With his sunglasses on.

—--------

After being scolded by Craig, you disarmed the situation by pressing your lips to the side of his mouth. “Baby, why don’t you get comfortable so we can snuggle? Like we used to.”

He crawled on top so that you were both on the mattress. You needed to build a decent level of trust with him in a small amount of time and letting him have some intimacy was the quickest way to do that.

He got on his back, with his head on the pillow, and pulled you up alongside him so that your cheek was on his shoulder. He lifted your chin to give you another kiss. “Isn’t this nice?” He asked, rubbing his nose on yours.

“It really is,” you lied.

It took a lot not to try and scratch his face and knee him in the groin right then for what he’d done to you, for what he’d done to Jester. For the pain that Eddie would go through when he couldn’t find you.

But you found your center and took a cleansing breath.

You had formulated a part of a plan, but you had to be patient.

Soon.

—---------

When Steve came back into the penthouse with the extra ice, he didn’t have the patience to wait for room service to bring, he was different, and Charlene noticed it right away.

She could see it in his face, the way he refused to make eye contact with her when she dropped her magazine to her lap to greet him and tell him their dinner was on the way.

Without a word, he grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom.

“Stevie?” She called out to him, anxiety tightening in her chest. “What took you so long? Is everything alright?”

Steve shut the bathroom door first, and then he mumbled, “yeah, I’ll be right out. Just need a second.”

He let his robe fall to the floor and braced his hands on the edge of the sink, naked, letting the information Eddie had just shared with him in the hall absorb. He tossed his sunglasses on the counter, so they skid across and landed against a hand towel folded in the shape of a swan.

He ran the sink and splashed some water on his face, letting himself peek in the mirror at his reflection over the tips of his fingers.

As close as he was with Eddie, they weren’t in the habit of swapping partners, and if Steve had known that Charlene was that “rich, older woman he hung out with once in a while” a few months ago, he never would have gone that far with her in the first place.

Water dripped cool down his tattooed chest as he looked down at his cock, lolling out at the triangle base of the muscular indents at his hips. He patted a finger on the shaft so that it bounced. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he whispered to his dick.

Not only was Charlene someone that Eddie had fucked, but she’d also tried to make Eddie’s life a living hell when he tried to move on with you. She’d paid a private investigator to stalk Eddie, tried to break the two of you up, and was the reason you got fired. Eddie warned him not to trust her, and to not let her sink her claws in and try to keep him like a pet.

He put his pants on and wet his fingers to run them through his hair, squaring his shoulders at his reflection, wondering how he’d get the rest of his money out of her. She’d paid half up front, but now he needed the rest, and then he wanted to get the fuck out of there. Eddie and Robin were headed to do some investigating, and he said he’d meet them in the stairwell in about 20 minutes.

Charlene was hovering near the bathroom door when he opened it, and she searched his face for a trace of the person he was before he went to get ice—but it was no longer there.

Her Stevie was gone.

“Hey,” he said as he brushed by her to put his shirt on. He left it unbuttoned as he turned, fixing the collar. “It’s late, I need to get going.”

“But,” Charlene looked around, her mind racing with ways to keep him there. “The food will be here soon.”

He’d been trying not to meet her eyes, but when he did, his stare was frigid. “I’m not hungry anymore. I just need you to pay me the rest of my fee, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

He went to the couch to put his shoes on.

“Steve, please tell me what is going on? I thought we were having a good time, I thought—”

“You thought what?” He asked snidely. “That I’d do all this for free? Out of the goodness of my heart?”

He was about to be a real asshole, but then he remembered that he had enjoyed his time with her, and under different circumstances, he would’ve stayed to fuck her all night even if he wasn’t getting paid. But he had to end it—he needed to cut ties before things turned into a shitshow like they had for you and Eddie. He couldn’t afford that level of drama in his life, not with Robin and Oliver at risk.

She rushed up to him and started kissing his chest. “Can you just stay a few more hours? I don’t know what is bothering you, but I know I can take your mind off of it,” she sank lower, kissing his stomach, about to get on her knees.

“I said no,” he repeated, grabbing her arm to pull her back up to face him.

“But, why—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you used to fuck Eddie?” He blurted, scowling at he ground.

A hard swallow clicked in her throat as she searched his eyes. “I-I didn’t think it would matter. Eddie and I aren’t—”

“Is that why you bailed me out of jail? Was it all part of your maniacal plan to get back at him or some shit?”

“Absolutely not. Steve, I really care about y—” she reached out to touch his face, but he moved away, stepping further back. He looked hurt and confused and disgusted all at once.

“Don’t act like you give a shit about me,” he warned. “I don’t think you’re even capable of caring about other people.”

At that, she bristled, and her cheeks burned red. She froze so still that, if not for her blinking, one might have thought she’d turned to stone.

“You know what? Forget the rest of the fucking money,” he walked to the nightstand and put his wallet in his back pocket. “It’s not worth it to me anymore. I’ll chalk it up to a couple orgasms and a free meal.”

Charlene did not respond, she only wet her lips as her eyes stayed fixed on one spot on the carpet.

He went over and paused his hand on his jacket that was hanging over the back of the couch. “Actually, I could probably sell this suit and makeup the difference so yeah—we’re even.”

When Charlene finally spoke up, her voice was different; it had an edge to it. “You’re awfully ungrateful for someone who should be on their knees thanking me.”

Steve chuckled a low laugh. “Listen, baby, the sex was great, I’ll give you that, but it wasn’t that great.”

“I’m not talking about the sex,” she turned and tilted her chin up at him. “I’m talking about how you still have custody of your son and he’s not several states away with Tina right now.”

Now, it was Steve’s time to turn to stone.

When he finally blinked, he made a face like he was staring into the sun. “What the fuck did you just say? How do you know about my son? About Tina?”

Charlene would’ve said anything to make him stay, and she was oddly pleased that this did the trick.

She shrugged. “I know that it didn’t take much money at all to get Tina to come here and cause some trouble. Shame she signed her parental rights away, but there are always ways around that, considering how much blood you have on your hands.”

Steve reeled back, almost knocked off his feet at the weight of the confession. He had to grab onto the back of the chair at the writing desk to steady himself as his head swam. Bile rose in his throat as if we were about to puke.

“You’re the reason I almost lost my son?” He whispered it, overwhelmed with the realization that Charlene was to blame for all of it: Every disaster that had befallen them since the day Eddie met you. All of the pain, all of the worry, all of the sleepless nights.

Charlene folded her arms over her chest. “If you think I can’t prove you have blood on your hands, try me.” Her eyebrows darted up a few times. “Eddie too. He left a bloody fingerprint at the crime scene when he killed a man in my driveway. All I ever do is try to keep the two of you safe, and this is the thanks I get?”

Steve’s mind barely had time to register that his body was moving—-he knocked the chair to the ground and lunged after Charlene.

His hands were around her throat so fast she could barely take a gasp of air at the end of her sentence. He took her to the ground, slamming her into the floor. She coughed and her eyes bulged.

“You tried to take my son away from me?” He was shaking; his eyes bloodshot with rage, but also wet with emotions. His lower lip trembled, and his face was beet red.

She held onto his wrists where he was choking her, sputtering, trying to catch air. She squirmed underneath him, but if her knees made contact with his stomach or groin, he couldn’t feel it.

"Kill me," she gasped, and Steve released his grip a little but did not relent.

“I should kill you,” He hissed, searching her face. He realized then that she had her hands locked on his wrists to keep him there, not to push him away.

“Please,” she wheezed. “Please…kill me.”

With a string of curses, Steve pushed off of her and jumped back, planting his arm on the edge of the coffee table to steady himself as he tried to collect himself.

Charlene sucked in a few gulps of air and stayed on the floor where she was.

Steve wobbled and stumbled a bit as he stood, trying to catch his footing. He looked down at his trembling hands, and then over at Charlene.

“I'm sorry,” he breathed. It took a few sold moment to find his composure. “Listen, stay away from me, stay away from my family. Stay away from my friends. I won't tell you again.”

It had taken all of his strength to not crush her windpipe just then, and he hated that about himself. He hated that, on top of everything else, Charlene was the reason he’d laid hands on a woman in anger for the first time in his life. Wayne and Robin would be very disappointed in him, no matter the circumstances.

His son would be disappointed in him.

“Steve,” Charlene rolled over onto her side. “Please don't go."

He fixed his collar again and left the jacket. He grabbed his smokes, and fumbled the lighter, trying to compose himself. The thought occurred to him that he should go over and help her up and make sure she was okay, but then he remembered…then he remembered all of it.

Without another word, he left. Once he was out, and the door clicked shut behind him, she continued to shout his name and tell him she was sorry. He could hear things being thrown around the room; the sound of glass breaking as it hit the wall. Steve kept a quick pace, only faltering once to shoulder check his balance against the wall, dizzy, but was already in the stairwell as her declarations of remorse echoed down the hall.

—----

Craig ordered Chinese food from the restaurant up the street and had it delivered. For a second you thought you might be able to get word to the delivery driver that you were being kept there against your will, but what would the delivery driver do? Get himself killed, probably, or pretend like he never saw you because who in their right mind would want to get mixed up in that?

It may have taken 20 minutes to eat your meal, but for you it might as well have been hours. He liked to coach you on how big your bites should be and how long you should chew your food. If you chewed too loudly or too fast, it would agitate him, and he’d stop you to make you start over.

It was all you could do to muscle down each bite when you weren’t even hungry, and it took every ounce of your willpower not to scream.

The fortune cookies were interesting because the paper inside yours said “this too shall pass”, while Craig’s was blank.

“I’ve never seen a blank one before,” you said nonchalantly, closing the lid on your take-out container. You could see the inconsistency was bothering him; he kept turning the paper over as if he’d missed it somehow. With his obsessive personality, you expected him to call up the restaurant and ask for another cookie.

But, he decided to let that one go and tossed the blank fortune into the pastick sack that the food came in.

You knew he’d want to clean up the area right away and sanitize the table again, so you took your opportunity.

“Can I use the bathroom?” You stood up, picking a piece of sticky rice off of your dress.

“May I,” he corrected, pushing his chair back exactly where it had been before he sat down. He lifted his eyebrow at you. “May I use the bathroom is the proper way to ask that.”

Your throat was tight as you swallowed, biting back a rage that was surely bubbling in your eyes. You forced a smile that cracked your cheeks. “May I?”

“Of course you may, silly goose,” he walked over to brush his finger along your cheek just before he leaned in, and your nostrils flared at the unwanted touch. “Don’t take too long. I’ll miss you,” he cooed after he pecked you on the lips.

Safely in the privacy of the bathroom, you locked the door quietly and gave a long, silent scream into your palms. Tears jerked at your eyes and mouth, but you sucked them back, squaring your shoulders.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, wondering if you had the guts to do what needed to be done.

If you didn’t already have the guts, you needed to find them—fast.

You’d asked Craig earlier what the plan was, and he’d made it very clear that he was taking you back to your place the next day so that you could pack your things and then return with him to Michigan. He casually mentioned that he knew where Oliver was spending the night—-just throwing out small details he thought you should know. In case you fought or refused to leave with him.

You realized now that he would never stop coming for you, not while he was alive.

You turned the faucet on so that the noises you were making wouldn’t be so obvious as you went to work unwrapping the soaps and scattering things around the countertop. You flipped all of the towels on the wrack around and unfolded them, making them as messy as possible. You got the bottoms of your shoes wet and made a bunch of dirty footprints around the floor tile. You relieved yourself quickly on the toilet, but then yanked some off the toilet paper down so that it pooled on the floor.

“Hey, pumpkin?” You called out to him over the sound of the toilet flushing. “Do you have some toothpaste I can borrow?”

He came over to the door and tried the handle. “There’s some in that black bag by the sink. Why is this door locked? Please put the cap back on properly when you are finished.”

You waited a few beats before unzipping the small, black bag, quickly eyeing for anything else you could use but, toenails clippers and a toothbrush weren’t great weapons. Unless you had time to widdle the end of the toothbrush into a shank like they do in prison. You put the cap of the toothpaste back on, but you left everything on the counter.

Before you opened the door, you moved the bathmat so it was crooked as it hung over the side of the tub, and you unhooked the shower curtain from two of the rings.

“Ahh,” you said as you exited, looking refreshed. “Much better.”

He was just walking to put the trash outside in the hall when you took the initiative to hug him. “I think I made a bit of a mess in there, baby. Sorry about that.”

When he shut the hallway door again, he came to flick the light on in the bathroom and his shoulders fell, his face pinching tight. “This is unexceptable,” he mumbled.

You took note that he forgot to dead bolt the front door in his haste.

You could hear him cursing you under his breath, but also knew that he wouldn’t be unable to function until he tidied up that room and put everything back exactly the way it was.

“Sorry lover,” you yelled, sweetly, turning the sound on the tv up. It was an episode of Golden Girls this time. “I was going to take a shower but decided not to.”

He had to shut the bathroom door in order to fix the shower curtain, and that was when you hurried to grab the red lipstick out of your purse. With your heart racing so fast you thought it might explode, you eased back the curtain to the window over the parking lot and wrote on the glass with the lipstick, and then you gently pulled the cream colored curtain back in place so that it didn’t make any sound as it skidded along the rod.

Craig opened the bathroom door again, but he would be cleaning and organizing for a while—so you forced a fake laugh over something that happened in the show, to make him believe you were just chilling, and then you grabbed the ball point pen you’d noticed earlier and put it in your back pocket. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. You made a mental note to always carry at least a pocket knife or pepper spray with you at all times.

Wait….

You suddenly remembered the travel-size can of aerosol deodorant you’d put in your clutch for Robin because it wouldn’t fit in hers.

You took that out, and tucked it under the covers.

At the last second, Craig stuck his head out to see where you were, and you just happened to be relaxing on the bed with your head cradled in your hand, face lit up with amusement at the screen.

—------

Alone at her place, on the way from the kitchen to the living room with a mug of tea in her hand, Astrid felt a pain shoot through her heart that was so sudden, she dropped the mug and it shattered to pieces on the laminate floor. She clutched her chest and swallowed back the taste of bile, trying to steady herself, bracing her hand on the stove.

After a few deep breaths, the flash of agony subsided, and a glance up at the clock told her that Steve was probably still at the wedding.

Her head swam, and her ears went blind as if her head was submerged in water.

A gun shot?

The thought occurred to her, but then it passed.

Was she experiencing another one of the symptoms of the strange connection she had with Steve ever since they were kids? Or was she having a panic attack of her own? She’d been thinking about the tarot reading she’d done for him; the warnings she’d been moved to share with him.

And then that charming, goofy grin he’d flashed her as he came in for a kiss, making light of her sudden and deep concern.

Driven by some type of inexplicable instinct, she stepped over the broken ceramic, toed into her shoes, and grabbed the keys to her old truck, hoping the engine didn’t fail her this time.

She also hoped, for some unspecified reason, that she wasn’t too late.

Too late for what, she wasn’t sure.

—-------

“First things first,” Robin paced in the stairwell between the 3 and 4th floors while Eddie gnawed at his lip, his arms crossed stiffly over his chest. “I’ll go down and see if I can find out from the front desk which room Craig is staying in.”

“They’re not just gonna hand that information over to you, Rob,” Eddie bit, trying not to take his frustration out on her. His own mind was racing, not only because of you, but also at the thought that Charlene had crossed yet another line and was trying to fuck with his friend. He couldn’t worry about Steve though—he had to trust that he would take the information he’d given him and do what needed to be done for that situation.

It was then that Eddie’s beeper went off, echoing off the walls.

He unclipped it from his belt to check it and found that it was from Wayne.

Alerts on his beeper from Wayne that were not during business hours always made his heart stop for a second.

“Shit, I gotta find a phone,” he mumbled.

Robin started taking the stairs down, motioning for him to follow. “We can sneak around to the payphones in the lobby. This way.”

Turns out, the cops weren’t there for Eddie, they had just been strolling by to check on the event. Robin batted her eyes at the guy at the front desk and asked for a peppermint while Eddie checked out the scene.

Wayne wanted to let him know that Bones and the rest of the Coffin Kings were on their way.

Eddie leaned against the payphone as Wayne advised him to wait for the rest of the MC before he made a move; it wasn’t safe to go up against a guy like Craig alone.

“Be careful, son,” Wayne told him.

“Take your meds and get some rest,” Eddie returned, which was just another way to say ‘I love you’.

“You need me there?” Wayne asked. “You need me to go and check on the boy?”

Eddie looked across the lobby at Robin who was on her way back with a handful of red and white peppermints wrapped in plastic and her tongue out in a goofy expression.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Eddie murmured. “Check on Oliver just in case. He’s with his friend Paul at Raina’s.”

He also knew that Wayne was much like him, and in a situation like this—he needed something to occupy himself so that he didn’t go mad.

He hung the black phone back onto the receiver and let Robin feed a round candy into his mouth; he started chewing right away instead of sucking on it, crunching down so hard his jaw clicked. He didn’t want to think what Craig was capable of now that he had you all alone, all to himself.

What if he put his hands on you? What if he….what if….

Eddie growled in frustration and punched the cement wall.

He hissed in pain, knuckles zinging, and then flapped his hand in the air.

“I need to go slash that fuckers tires so he can’t go anywhere,” Eddie told Robin, and she nodded; agreeing.

They told Steve to meet them down in the parking lot, and now they’d have more muscle as the rest of the kings rolled in.

But Eddie was losing patience, and—even worse—he worried he was losing you.

—------

Craig was in a bad mood when he was done cleaning the bathroom, and you knew he would be—but it was a price you were willing to pay.

He turned the TV off and stood in front of him, glaring down his nose at you.

“What have you been up to while I’ve been busy cleaning up your mess?”

You sat up and batted your eyelashes a few times. “I’ve just been missing you, that’s all.”

His open hand slap came hard and fast across your face and it stung like hell.

Your eyes were watering as you slowly brought your head back to face him again.

“Are you done being a little pig?”

You sucked in your bottom lip, nodding. “Yes.”

You winced, because you thought he was going to slap you again, but he grabbed your chin like he’d done before and squeezed, making your mouth pucker. “Say you promise.”

“I promise, baby. I promise.”

“Good,” he released you. “Now we can finally enjoy our evening.”

You sank from the bed and got to your knees in front of him, and his hooded eyes followed your every move.

“If I can’t be a pig, can I be a whore?” You purred, moving to unfasten his belt buckle.

“You are such a fucking whore,” he hissed. “And you know how much I hate whores.”

You undid the button and pulled down the zipper. He groaned a little as he watched you reach inside his boxers to pull his cock out. He tilted his head back, feeling your warm breath on the tip as you stroked him and he pushed his pants further.

“Fuck yeah,” he said to the ceiling. “Suck me dry like the whore that you are.”

You spit on the tip and jerked him a few more times, unwilling to touch him with your mouth, as you reached around for the pen in your back pocket and clicked the point out.

“Yes, baby,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

On the next breath, you jabbed the pen up into his balls as fast and as hard as you could.

In that first second or two, while he was still in shock, wailing, you stabbed him with it a few more times.

Jab jab jab

Blood gushed out and he fell to the ground whimpering screams that could not be fully formed inside the crushing pain.

He clutched his wound and rolled over, giving you enough time to scamper away. He lurched for you as you darted across the bed, thinking you wanted to grab for the deodorant spray, but then you just said fuck it and let out a feral yell as you dropped down with your knee in his face, and then you brought the pen down again....

You were aiming for his eyeball--hopefully his brain---but it stabbed into his cheek instead.

His scream was so piercing, you thought it might break the window

Was he dead or going to die? Probably not, but this was your only chance to get away and you had to take it. You ran as fast as you could, fumbling at the handle of the door as you heard his shrill, gurgled moans behind you.

—------

Steve found his way down the stairwell and stopped to take a breather. He’d been walking awhile, and his adrenaline was through the roof, so he paused to lean against the railing and light a cigarette.

“Son of a bitch,” he said on the exhale as smoke billowed out, and then he wet his lips. The worst part about finding out what Charlene did, was that Steve had honestly started to like her. He felt like he’d been tricked into dubious consent because he never would’ve let himself have any feelings if he’d known even half of the truth. He put two fingers to his throat to check his pulse, certain that he was in the middle of a panic attack. The nicotine did its job to calm him down, it also got him to slow down and breathe, if only to support his habit.

His attention perked up again when he heard a scream and a thump coming from the floor above, and then more screaming, as if some dude was being murdered.

—-----

On the highway, Astrid struggled to catch her breath, and the constriction in her chest made her swerve into the gravel and fishtail before she righted the truck again while the duet Jackson by Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash played through static on the radio.

She could see the lights of the hotel up ahead through the trees.

—-----

Eddie found Craig’s SUV in the parking lot and stabbed its tires with his utility knife, thinking he should have one of the guys bring the tow truck around and impound the fucker. Robin tried to open the doors and cupped her hands around her eyes to see what was inside.

Behind them, a car was pulling in off the highway; the headlights behind them cast their shadows over the pavement.

they heard the brakes squeal to a halt and a woman yelped.

Eddie’s attention went to the side of the building and he caught sight of something scrawled in red on one of the windows.

—-----

You turned a corner at the end of the hall and ran like the devil was on your heels, passed several vending machines and a pool, until you broke through into a dark stairwell and made your way down on foot.

You were afraid to look back.

The fear of hearing him enter the stairwell behind you had you in such a hurry that you tripped twice and caught yourself. You were barefoot, and you were pretty sure you’d stepped on a thumbtack or some glass because the pad of your left foot stung like hell, but it did not slow you down.

You wiped something wet out of your eye with your arm, assuming it was blood, and regretted that you didn't stay to make sure you killed him like you knew you should have.

In that moment, as you stumbled down the stairs afraid for your life, you felt like going to prison for such a thing would've been worth it.

You finally shot out into the night air and took a deep breath.

You came out around the backside of the hotel, where there wasn’t much illumination but for three lights up high on a ledge. You only paused for a second, but kept going, passing dumpsters and an employee entrance before you caught sight of the highway and headlights making their way onto the property.

—-------

Charlene darted from the hotel and out into the street, desperate to find Steve to explain, to let him know she regretted all of it, without looking where she was going. Before one of the valets could stop her, she almost got hit by an old truck cruising in at twice the speed it should have.

Only a hair away from the grille, she turned to throw the driver a dirty look.

Astrid was startled as well, but with her foot on the brake, and her eyes locked on Charene, she revved the engine.

—-------

When Craig stumbled into the elevator with a dark stain seeping through the crotch of his denim and a punctured face oozing blood, everyone in the compartment cleared out, muffling their screams as they went.

He heaved and grunted and thumbed the button for the lobby as he scowled down the hall at nothing while the doors slid shut.

He had two loaded guns shoved in the waistband of his jeans and he intended to use them.

—-----

Eddie stepped closer to read what it said on the window with a tilt of his head. It read: “Eddie I love u” and it was written backwards so that it could be legible from out where he was, not inside the room.

“Baby,” he whispered with a catch in his throat.

Forgetting about everything else he was doing, and the chaos that was going on, he took note of which floor that was and started to book it back inside, but then that was when you came into sight, limping around the shadowy corner.

You had blood spatter on your face, and your dress was ripped. It also looked like you hurt your foot somehow and your face broke into a sob the moment you saw him.

—------

Astrid parked her truck right where it was, with the headlights still on as she got out to find out where the boys were. She grabbed a shovel out of the bed in case she needed to use it as a weapon.

She was about to say something to Charlene when they heard the gunshot and both women ducked down, shoulders pressed together behind the side of the truck.

—-----

Craig exited the building on a rampage—not caring who saw him or what it looked like as he shot a bullet into the air.

He stepped out between you and Eddie, and you called out to him.

“I’m right here, Craig,” you said, stepping further into the light from the shadows. “Please just, leave them be. I’ll go with you wherever.”

Craig turned to give you a sneer of a grin, his white teeth now pink from all of the blood in his mouth.

“Oh, honey, it’s too late for that.”

You locked eyes with Eddie across the way and he started towards you, ready to breech the gap, regardless of the consequences as Craig turned the gun on him.

Eddie kept his pace, getting closer. “You better be ready to use that, man, before I get my hands on you.”

With Craigs finger hot on the trigger, there was a sudden yell from somewhere in the bushes as Steve flew out of nowhere and tackled Craig to the ground. Eddie took that split second to get over to you, to hold your face and make sure you were okay.

The gun went off again, but the two were a tangled mess on the ground. Steve beat Craig’s skull into the pavement a few times, and jammed his thumb into the once good eye, but Craig clocked him with the butt of the gun and it stunned him for a second.

It all happened so fast.

Steve was able to crack Craig’s hand against the ground and he lost his grip on the gun, and it skidded away, out of reach.

There were motorcycles thundering near in the distance as Craig yanked the other gun from his waistband and shuffled back to take aim.

Eddie spread his arms out and moved in front of you to act as a shield..

And then there was a gunshot from somewhere else, but the bullet only skimmed Craig’s shoulder. He yowled, but he did not faulter.

Charlene tried to aim at his skull for a second one with trembling hands, but Craig turned the gun on her and Astrid before she could, and he got a shot it, just before Steve reared up to take him to the ground again. The struggle turned them over several times, but then in a blink, Steve was on his back again, but he was able to wrestle the other weapon from Craig.

Craig reared up to bring his fist down into Steve’s face just as Astrid was about to bring the business end of the shovel down on his head---

but then there was a shotgun blast from out of the dark.

Blast…click…Blast…click…Blast

You ran up behind Eddie and put your arms around him.

Craig’s body spasmed in the air where he knelt above Steve as the power of the shots knocked him back.

There were smoking holes blown through his head and his chest.

With one final, open-mouthed pause against the beam of the headlights, and a choked gurgle, Craig’s dead body slumped to the ground.

Panting, Steve unsheathed his knife and got to his knees; ready for more just in case.

Everyone’s eyes followed the line of fire to the source.

And there was Wayne.

He stepped out of the shadows in his Coffin King's denim kutte with “Uncle” on the front pocket, lowering the double barrel. He tipped his chin to both of the boys and squared his shoulders.

A crowd had gathered from inside, including the bride, and the woman who had just caught the bouquet, and Melanie. Even Erika was there as someone’s date. They whispered to each other as Craig’s blood pooled into a little river on the uneven pavement and made its way to the gutter.

From inside Astrid’s truck, the chorus to the song I’m on Fire by Bruce Springsteen was eventually drowned out by the fierce rumble of motorcycles as the entire MC entered the parking lot and flanked the scene.

Part 16

----

whoa, who knew this would be such a family affair when this fic first started? This world has come to mean so much to me, and I'm so grateful to those of you still riding along.

As always, your comments mean the world, and, if you enjoyed it---reblog it---because it's the only way this fic will ever be seen by anyone but us 🧡

----

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @rhirojo@bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975@falling-solar-system @secretdryrose@kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @dandelionnfluff @lilpotatobean2-deactivated20230 @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@layla-loves-ed @dashingdeb16 @eddiiiieeee @michellecrusher

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #I'm on Fire #Eddie Munson fic #biker!Eddie #biker!steve #coparents!stobin #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #biker fic #Stranger Things fic #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson drama #Steve Harrington #90's au #biker Eddie Munson #biker Steve Harrington #Spotify

305 notes · View notes

weemssapphic · 1 year ago

Text

do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

Larissa Weems x reader

“The truth is that you’ve always gravitated towards Larissa - always turning towards her like a sunflower turning to face the sun, as though you need to bask in her light to survive (you are honestly starting to think you might).” Or A collection of scenes post-breakup with Larissa Weems, based loosely on the song ‘deja vu’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

EDIT 17.1.2024: ao3 user levisha created a playlist inspired by this fic and it is absolutely fire! really sets the mood :')

A/N: This is a breakup fic - read at your own risk, I guess (I won’t be offended if you skip this one, I usually steer clear of hurt/no comfort - both in the reading and writing sense - but I felt weirdly compelled to write this. Was on the fence about posting it but here it is I guess).

Words: ~2.3k

Content/warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, no happy ending, breakups, mentions of alcohol, mean!Larissa

The sun bathes your face in a comforting warmth as you stroll along the pier. It’s the end of summer and there’s a cool breeze in the air as the days slowly turn shorter. You’ve visited this pier dozens of times this year, but today is the first day you’ve gone alone. The sounds of children playing and waves rolling rhythmically, the scent of salty sea air mixed with strawberry ice cream - all send waves of nostalgia crashing through your body.

You took Larissa here for the first time last summer. It was all she could talk about for weeks after, until you brought her here again. You pass by a bench, the bench where you sat back then, your head leaning on her shoulder, her hand on your thigh, alternating between talking about anything and everything, and watching the seagulls, wrapped in a comfortable silence. Your chest constricts but you walk on, passing by couples and families and groups of teenagers.

It’s been a month since you last saw her. A month of crying and screaming, a month of feeling like your heart has been torn out of your chest. Today is the first day in a month that you’ve successfully managed to make it to the afternoon without crying once.

As you look across the pier, your gaze settles on a woman. She’s standing alone, watching the water ebb and flow. You notice her because of the sundress she’s wearing, the funky print - it’s something you could see yourself wearing, and it makes you smile.

It appears that someone has called out to her - she turns her head and you can see from the side that her face lights up as she reaches out her hand, into which a cup of ice cream is deposited. The woman beams, but your own smile melts right off your face as you drink in the form of the tall blonde that has sidled up next to the young woman.

You already know that Larissa has found someone new - it isn’t exactly a secret, she’d told you so herself when she’d ended your relationship. Her heart had been captured by another. They’d met during a work conference. They’d hit it off. It wasn’t personal, she’d told you with doe-eyes and a sad smile as she cracked your heart in two. You just weren’t enough, that much you could infer. And that was that. A part of you knew from the start that this was exactly how Larissa would leave - she found someone more exciting, the next second she was gone.

You wonder what Larissa had said to her new girlfriend before leaving the house this morning. “I have the perfect spot for a date,” perhaps. “There’s a lovely spot by the ocean I’ve been meaning to show you,” maybe. Either way, you’re certain she left out the part about coming here with you.

That was our place, I found it first.

It hurts to look, and you know you should look away, but you can’t. Not when the woman slides closer to Larissa, when Larissa’s arm winds its way around her waist, when she presses a kiss to the top of the woman’s head, when they begin to share the ice cream - one spoon for two, just as you’d always insisted.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but a gust of wind makes you shiver and you know the two women have felt it too, because Larissa rubs a hand over her bare arm and the woman shrugs off the cardigan she’s wearing to drape it over the taller woman’s shoulders. It looks tiny on her, and both women begin to laugh, and you feel you may be sick because you recall offering Larissa your own jacket on a day not unlike this and it feels so reused to you - you wonder if the thought crosses Larissa’s mind, too.

When you trudge home shortly after, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your cheeks, staining the front of your shirt. So perhaps today isn’t the first day you haven’t cried in a month.

~~~

You don’t want to, you don’t try to, but somehow you manage to run into Larissa and her new girlfriend everywhere.

It’s a few weeks later and you’re standing in line at the Weathervane. The barista hands you your coffee and you turn to make your way back to your usual corner booth.

Except, it’s already occupied. The woman sitting there facing you looks vaguely familiar, but what’s even more familiar - so achingly familiar - is the back of a blonde head, soft curls pinned into elaborate loops.

Your stomach churns as your eyes fall to the table, to the two mugs of hot chocolate, each covered with a generous heap of whipped cream. You step closer in spite of yourself, drawn like a moth to a flame - you know you will be scorched, burned alive, but you cannot help the trance you find yourself in as soon as Larissa is involved.

“Go on, try it,” comes a smooth, velvety voice - you’d almost forgotten her voice (almost made yourself forget), but now it comes flooding back to you and hits you straight in the gut. The lilting accent, dripping like honey from painted (always painted) lips - you can picture the way they curl up into a little smile, baring pearly white teeth as Larissa waits for the woman across from her to lift the mug to her own lips and take a sip.

The smile that lights up her face is bright, innocent. “It’s really good!” she says enthusiastically, and then Larissa reaches across the table to swipe her thumb over the little dollop of whipped cream that coats the woman’s upper lip. She giggles - they both giggle - and you feel tears prick your eyes as the ghost of Larissa’s thumb passes over your own lip.

She thinks it’s special.

She thinks she’s special.

You look away. You take a step back towards the counter. “Actually, can I have this to go?” The barista gives you a funny look but takes the mug from you, pouring your drink into a to-go cup and pressing the lid firmly in place. You leave. You cannot stand it anymore, and you leave. Before the woman catches you staring at her, before Larissa turns and pins you in place with what would surely be a look of pity or disgust - or worse, apathy.

~~~

New Year’s Eve. A party at a local bar. A party that everyone goes to. A party that you managed to drag Larissa to the previous year. You aren’t sure you even want to go - you are sure that the memory of Larissa will be everywhere, the memory of the New Year’s kiss, of singing together, of whispered resolutions to fall even more in love and travel the world together.

But you need to get out, you cannot sit at home drowning in memories. Not after months have passed since the breakup - you should be moving on. And they’re only memories. You should be safe, you think - Larissa never was one for crowded parties, she would’ve rather spent her New Year’s Eve on the balcony of her apartment with a glass of wine in hand. “Please, Larissa,” you would beg. “I wouldn’t go for anyone else,” she would purr.

So you go. And for a few blissful minutes, it is pleasant, and the music invigorates you and the alcohol numbs you and maybe, just maybe, you can forget about Larissa Weems for a few hours.

But as you stand in the dimly lit bar, clutching a bottle of beer to your chest, you spot her. More specifically, you spot her first, all bouncy and giddy and wrapped in a sparkly dress that catches the light and throws specks of silver across the floor in front you. You think - it’s possible - she could be alone, but then Larissa is standing there, tall and regal and grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes sparkle in amusement as she looks down at her girlfriend and it’s as though time has slowed to a complete stop. Her hand settles on the woman’s lower back and you find yourself shivering in response, recalling how it felt the first time it was your back that her fingers pressed into.

“Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel starts to play. You cannot escape this damned deja vu that sneaks up on you every time you see Larissa with her girlfriend. All of your senses are invaded by the feeling of standing in this very same bar with Larissa, drunk and singing along, giddy at the prospect of another year together, another year of falling even more madly in love.

You wonder, as you watch the woman turn her head up to meet Larissa’s gaze, as you watch her mouth form the words to the song, as you watch Larissa sing back to her, leaning in until they are practically shouting the lyrics into each other’s faces, grinning giddily - does Larissa feel it too? The deja vu? Does Larissa have a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach just like you do? Does the memory cross her mind of you yelling “it’s our song” whenever “Uptown Girl” began to play? Does she think about how you teased her for getting the lyrics wrong? Does she still get those lyrics wrong? Maybe her new girlfriend teases her about that, too. Maybe Larissa whispers “I love you” to this woman after the chorus, too, just like she always did with you.

You try to spend the evening as far from Larissa as possible, try not to look for her in the crowd as you might have once done. Your efforts are futile. The truth is that you’ve always gravitated towards Larissa - always turning towards her like a sunflower turning to face the sun, as though you need to bask in her light to survive (you are honestly starting to think you might).

She never turns to face you, though. Not once. You aren’t sure if she doesn’t know you’re there or if she is actively ignoring you - you aren’t sure which would be worse. That she can walk directly past you without registering your presence, even though you could pick her out of a crowd of hundreds in an instant, irrespective of her height? Or that she cannot even bear to look at the person she once swore she’d spend forever with?

Your throat is dry and you aren’t nearly drunk enough to get through the evening - but Larissa is sitting at that damned bar once again, elbows on the counter and chin resting in her hands as she listens intently to something her girlfriend is saying to her - she used to hang onto your every word like that, like she was held captive by your voice. It used to make you feel like the most special person in the world, that Larissa Weems would choose you, that she would value what you have to say.

Larissa speaks - it’s too loud in the bar to hear their conversation, but she must have said something funny because her girlfriend throws her head back with laughter, and Larissa simply watches her with sparkling eyes and parted lips that curve up into an adoring smile. You cannot help but wonder if you’ve heard the joke she’s told before - if it’s one of the jokes you’ve taught her, that she loves to retell. You cannot help the bitter taste this leaves in your mouth.

No more drinks for you then - not when Larissa is at the bar and you’d have to brush against her to get the bartender’s attention. It’s nearing midnight anyway, and most people are starting to turn towards the TVs hanging in the corners of the bar - a news program covering the Ball Drop in Times Square plays.

The countdown begins:

“10, 9, 8…”

The entire room chants as the countdown on the TVs continues.

“…2, 1 - HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Confetti begins to fall around you. It catches in your hair, blurs your vision with kaleidoscope colors. Music and screaming and laughter fill your ears, deafening you. But all you can do is watch as Larissa kisses her girlfriend - right at midnight. They kiss and kiss and just as you feel you’re about to be sick, Larissa pulls back. And then she smiles, she smiles like she used to smile at you, and reaches up to gingerly pluck a piece of neon pink confetti out of her girlfriend’s hair, and her girlfriend’s shoulders shake with laughter as her hands slide down from Larissa’s neck to her waist to tug her closer - even closer.

Then Larissa, beautiful, sweet, merciless Larissa, begins to laugh as well, and as she does so she turns her head and her eyes (half-lidded as her face scrunches up with unadulterated joy) pierce your own. And it is the worst feeling you have ever felt, and a knot begins to form in your throat, because her gleeful expression does not change. Not into one of guilt, not into one of pity - not even into one of recognition. It is as if you are two strangers, accidentally and fleetingly making eye contact in a bar.

Tears prick at your vision and for a moment, Larissa is blurred. You blink the tears away and when you can see clearly again, her attention is back on her girlfriend. She’ll never feel sorry for the way you hurt, you realize.

A new year. A fresh start - for everyone but you. You will always be stuck in a bar with Larissa Weems on New Year’s Eve, with nothing but your memories and an overwhelming sense of deja vu.

Taglist: @oceansblooming @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #hdgkjhfkdfhkdfhk this is wildly out of my comfort zone sorry if this is like not good lmao #also sorry for it not being happy lol #but thank you for reading if you did <333 #Spotify

263 notes · View notes

courtney-deserved-better · 2 months ago

Note

Do you have any tips for getting yourself to actually focus and write for a while? I have so much motivation to write but then I open my laptop and go to write the next chapter and I just feel like oughhhhhhhhhh

no that's so real. if you're not sure what you're working on is what you WANT to be writing, i would say investigate that further instead of trying to keep hacking away at it. if you ARE sure it's what you want to write, it's just hard to get started, here's some stuff you can do!

📜 change the aesthetic of your document. this can be with the font (comic sans is shockingly helpful) but what i've been doing lately is changing the page color to something that fits the theme of my fic. it's so much more enjoyable writing on a pastel yellow or a dark red than just a harsh white page.

☕️ go to a cafe! if i have spending money and i need motivation i go to my local cafe, get a coffee, and sit down to write. changing to an environment that isn't my apartment/workplace/university is refreshing, plus i get a nice little drink. and i tell myself because i spent money, i have to write or i'm wasting money. guilt trippy, but it gets the job done. that, plus the caffeine lol

🎧 find or make a playlist you like (i like lofi instrumental stuff i find on youtube) and tell yourself you have to write for as long as the playlist plays. could be 15 minutes, could be an hour, but sometimes having a time limit and some funky beats helps

📝 skip whatever the first scene of your chapter is and write the second. or skip it and go to the scene you're most excited to write that chapter. once you get into a flow state, it's easier to go back and write the previous scene and then later edit it so the overall chapters makes sense

💭 freewrite! just start writing out your stream of consciousness, it's a lot more easy to get started when you're just typing whatever comes to mind and then you can eventually transition into writing your fic. sometimes you gotta warm up first!

👟 take a walk! getting out of the house and just stewing in my thoughts about my fic is great at helping me connect plot points, explore themes, and just think about why i'm excited to write my fic in the first place

💬 create social pressure. deadlines are great, but it's easy to talk yourself out of them if they're self-enforced. so find someone who you're comfortable with reading your fics, and tell them you'll have a chapter/scene/section to show them by a certain date. then you feel forced to have something to show them by that date. only do this if you know it will motivate you and not make you horribly anxious.

the MOST important advice i have is this:

NEVER END A CHAPTER WITHOUT STARTING THE NEXT ONE.

i am SO serious about this. as soon as you finish your latest chapter, go ahead and write at least the first sentence of the next one. starting is the HARDEST PART of writing for me and already knocking out some of that while i'm in the flow has been a game changer when it comes to fic writing. if your problem is that having to start the next chapter kills your motivation, take starting the next chapter OUT OF THE EQUATION.

thanks for the ask! i love talking about writing, best of luck with your fics!

#ask #anon #writing advice

26 notes · View notes

antoniosvivaldi · 11 months ago

Text

Assorted Christmas playlists vol. 2 - Here is a set of four new Christmas playlists for different emotions and atmosphere of the festive season. Comes with a Christmas themed Tag Yourself meme, just like the previous instalment from 2019! (Tag yourself collab with @violets)

Companion uquiz | Assorted Christmas playlists vol. 1

Gingerbread House - Christmas crackers, practical jokes, enjoys watching anime, has an eclectic taste in music, loves to brainstorm, arts & crafts, messy handwritings, mismatched socks, comic strips, colourful flashing lights

A selection of funky songs to dance to for Christmas

{Listen on Spotify}

Silent Night - Counting blessings, candlelights, quill & ink, vintage posters, staying awake at the middle of the night, feels everything deeply, coffeeshop jazz, solving puzzle games, slow and steady to the finish line, mindfulness, ancient library

A selection of introspective songs for the winter nights

{Listen on Spotify}

Cozy Fireplace - Quality time, lovestruck, cardigans, the smell of winter berries, heartfelt letters from loved ones, romance novels, a bowl of hot soup, the smell of fresh oranges, rewatching classic films, stuffing Christmas stockings

A selection of heartwarming songs to enjoy together

{Listen on Spotify}

Christmas at the Beach - Carefree, goes with the flow, life of the party, listens to punk rock at full volume, shirts with tropical prints, street smart, dancing like nobody's watching, fruity punch, loves to be surprised, loves to surf

A selection of pop / punk songs for the summer lovers

{Listen on Spotify}

85 notes · View notes

moonlit-escape · 2 months ago

Text

★彡 ˙🌱. ¡! Vylad Mystreet headcanons !!

the second character i fell in love with. how cruel it is that he has fuck all going for him. I'll fix that.

korean and white

pansexual (actually this one is just canon) (cole petty ily)

doesn't have like a set label for his gender, and is cool with anything people wanna see him as

will try anything once

will put anything in his mouth

can sleep literally anywhere

i think this man might be the most laid-back, flexible person on the planet.

except towards geese because fuck those things

any time he has slept in a park he has made sure there were no geese around because those fuckers have stolen his stuff before and made him watch as they drowned it

listens to the most underground shit you've never heard and it all slaps (i didnt add this kind of stuff to his playlist though bc i wanted it to. make sense.)

also just listens to underrated music in general (includes just underrated songs from super popular bands)

currently holds an award for being the "funniest man on mystreet" and he didn't even have residency there

kind of has random visions about his friends in his sleep, but he just thinks they're normal dreams and that he misses his friends a lot (oh little does he know.)

used to say the most cryptic shit as a kid and freak his brothers out

being friends with vylad as a kid mustve been the weirdest experience. the kid eats glue, dirt, and moss, befriends frogs, crows, and moths, tells you you've suffered immense turmoil in a past life completely sincerely, and then infodumps about the entire history and process of typewriters for some fuckin reason

im 100% sure all three of the boys have autism and they got it from zianna

while he doesn't really want to connect himself to the ro'meave name (mainly bc of garte), he does love his family to death and sends his mom and brothers post cards every once in a while (when he remembers, mostly)

doesn't really reach out to his family any other way and neither do they. which he understands; communication is a two-way street

tries to stay positive and practice a healthy mindset and self-image, even and especially when he feels his insecurities and sense of self-worth creeping in

knows how to fish with nothing but a shoestring and a good fuckin stick

Loves pickin up good fuckin sticks

also cool rocks

he collects cool rocks from all the places he visits and keeps them in an old jewelry box. he keeps special ones he plans on giving to his friends in the top part of it

always making friends with stray dogs, cats, rats, raccoons, and opossums. someone stop him

has a johnny stein hotel transylvania relationship with his backpack (it literally has everything he owns in it)

knows how to fix and alter clothes

he knows how to do a lotta shit, alright. i don't think you'll find a craftier little guy than vylad ro'meave

except when it comes to fixing a water heater or anything to do with pipes or electrical tbh he hasn't lived in a house in a While

i'm obsessed w the idea that zane had spent so much time and effort trying to get gene to notice him meanwhile vylad enters gene's peripherals for 2.5 seconds and gene's like I Want Him.

poor vylad can't get on zane's better side for shit

owns a few skirts and dresses and high-heeled boots because he can wear whatever he wants

goes to ren faires whenever he can honestly. sometimes as a job!

when his hair gets too long he ties it back into a low ponytail or pigtails until he can get it cut again (doesnt really like having long hair)

wears weird and funky socks

he absolutely has a roblox account

likes to pronounce words wrong on purpose sometimes. mostly by putting emphasis on the wrong syllables

ABSOLUTELY adds extra e's to his words when texting bc thatse good showbiz babey!!

i'm coming to terms with the fact that he is most definitely a furry (not the type to dress up for it though. he just does artwork)

#mystreet headcanons #vylad ro'meave #vylad mystreet #aphmau vylad #it's my boy. it's vylad #aphblr #i just gotta say #he's definitely a goblin #cw: swearing #WHOOPS

22 notes · View notes

089dj · 5 months ago

Text

Purple Bed – Die perfekte Sommerhymne 2024

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”12240″ img_size=”600×600″ full_width=”” text_align_mobile=”center” onclick=”custom_link” opacity=”100″ link=”url:https%3A%2F%2F089dj.com%2Frelease%2Fpurple-bed%2F|title:Purple%20Bed”][vc_column_text]Der Münchner DJ und Musikproduzent Robert James Perkins begeistert erneut die Musikszene mit seinem neuesten Release “Purple Bed“. Die Single, eine groovige…

View On WordPress

#2024 #BEATZEKATZE records #DJ Playliste #elektronische Musik #Funky House #München #Musikproduktion #New Music #New Release #Professioneller DJ Service #Purple Bed #Spotify #Music

0 notes

hangon-silvergirl · 1 year ago

Text

The HellCheer Holiday Mixtape

OH HEY. I'm a sucker for a festive fandom, so behold my seasonal challenge TO YOU: The Hellcheer Holiday Mixtape!

For 12 days starting December 13th, express your Freak and Cheerleader affections as inspired by holiday music prompts (if one so titillates you), and in whatever medium you please!

Guidelines:

There are no constraints on your level of participation; do it all, do some, do none, doesn't matter; JUST HAVE FUN

Same goes for themes and subject matter; just please respect the rules of content curation and slap on appropriate tags. We observe DLDR in this house

Except, uh, whatever you post should be, you know, festive. And tie back to the prompt at least tenuously

Late posts count!!!

Tag your contributions with #hellcheerholidaymixtape (so I can see them and share them)

Share on any platform you like, but x-post here bc I'm only tumblin'

Don't be shitty (for this quest in particular, but also generally speaking)

All songs are on the Spotify playlist:

If you have thoughts, concerns, or questions, my ask box is open!

Prompts below!

13 December

"Merry Christmas (I Don't Wanna Fight Tonight)" - The Ramones

"Jingle Bell Rock" - Hall & Oates

"Run, Run, Rudolph" - Bryan Adams

14 December

"Hard Candy Christmas" - Dolly Parton

"Another Lonely Christmas" - Prince

"It Must Have Been the Mistletoe (Our First Christmas)" - Barbara Mandrell

15 December

"Do They Know It's Christmas?" - Band Aid

"Christmas in Dixie" - Alabama

"Let's Party" - Jive Bunny & the Master Mixers

16th December

"Christmas In My Heart" - The Jets

"Thank God It's Christmas" - Queen

"Silent Night" - The Hooters

17th December

"Wonderful Christmastime" - Paul McCartney

"Santa's Beard" - They Might Be Giants

"Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" - U2

18th December

"Funky, Funky Xmas" - New Kids On The Block

"Hazy Shade of Winter" - The Bangles

"Merry Christmas, Everyone" - Shakin' Stevens

19th December

"Christmas Wrapping" - The Waitresses

"It's Christmas All Over the World" - Sheena Easton

"2000 Miles" - The Pretenders

20th December

"Fairytale of New York" - The Porgues (ft. Kirsty MacColl)

"Sleigh Ride" - Air Supply

"Put a Little Love in Your Heart" - Al Green & Annie Lennox

21st December

"Christmas in Hollis" - RUN DMC

"Mistletoe & Wine" - Cliff Richard

"Father Christmas" - The Kinks

22nd December

"Driving Home for Christmas" - Chris Rea

"She Won't Be Home" - Erasure

"The Power of Love" - Frankie Goes to Hollywood

23rd December

"Christmas With The Devil" - Spinal Tap

"Things Fall Apart" - Christina

"Peace In Our Time" - Eddie Money

24th December

"Last Christmas" - Wham!

"Merry Christmas, Baby" - Bruce Springsteen

"Santa, Baby" - Madonna

#hellcheer #eddissy #hellcheerholidaymixtape #the hellcheer holiday mixtape 2023 #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer fanart #hellcheer edit #prompts #hellcheer prompts #christmas prompts #Spotify

75 notes · View notes

sadcypher · 2 years ago

Text

playlists for professional procrastinators 03: mathematical concepts

once again I am bringing gifts in form of bad but oddly specific playlists! Enjoy!

cant fourier transform our way out of this one boys: lofi, instrumentals, mainly for studying

particle accelerators are out now we are yeeting particles real fast: very eerie multi layered and dimensional stuff. dark wave? retro synth and other funky acid genres i cant name. Lorn

hyperfinestructure: minimalist, melodic house

gravitational waves: for the fried brain cells. Neurofunk, Neuropunk, whatever just DnB.

entanglement: phonk, good hype playlist to feed the god complex

agns? ah yes enslaved gravity: soft rock, post punk-ish? idk but it has placebo, nothing but thieves and some molchat doma.

HOMOmorphism: a structure preserving map between two algebraic structures of the same type: chill synth and retrowave, just vibes

#playlist #song recs

291 notes · View notes

sophiethatchersource · 2 months ago

Text

Who do you trust most with the aux? Myself… or my twin sister Ellie. What’s a song that reminds you of your hometown? “Scatterbrain” by Radiohead I would listen to this on my iPod on repeat. Who is Pivot & Scrape for? Anyone who would like to listen. I don’t like the idea of having a target audience. What led to your pivot to music? I’ve been making music since I was 14 just by myself. My mom was a piano teacher and I grew up taking voice lessons since I was 9. I started off writing melodies with my omnichord then started using Ableton and experimenting with different sounds and textures. What makes an iconic bang? A nostalgic melody. Who are your style icons? Zoe Lund, Beatrice Dalle, Nina Hagen, Lizzy Mercier Decloux, Nastassja Kinski, Anais Nin, the list goes on and on. So many iconic, stylish, and outlandish women out there. Who is your muse? Stina Nordenstam and Kazu Makino. Name your favorite artist no one knows about: Grim. Jun Konagaya is a legend and I try to show everyone I know his music. It’s truly magical and from another time. You can find him on YouTube. His solo ambient/experimental work is amazing too. What does your notes app look like? Lyrics that don’t make any sense, me constructing texts to bail on people (I’m very good at that), breakup texts, if you really scroll far back. Basically, any social interaction that gives me anxiety is in there. Hot Girl Summer or Sad Girl Fall? Funky Monkey Fall. What was your coming-of-age soundtrack? Anything Elliott Smith. I grew up on his music and listened to him every day for about ten years when I was in school. He got me through a lot of times when I felt like a total loner in school. What was on the moodboard for the “Black and Blue” music video? The canoe scenes from Celine and Julie Go Boating were my biggest influence. I’m a huge fan of Rivette and Berto and anything they do together. The stop motion Wolf House was another huge inspiration on Ellie’s behalf. What album is playing in heaven? Dark Island by Pram. Best movie-needle drop: “Spoon by Can” in Morvern Caller. Hands down best movie soundtrack. Favorite song to listen to while lying on the floor? “Trains Across the Sea” by Silver Jews What’s your go-to karaoke song? Anything Carpenters or Pulp. If I’m feeling risqué, I’ll sing something from Cabaret.

Actress-Turned-Musician Sophie Thatcher Endorses Funky Monkey Fall | Sound Advice | Interview

spotify playlist made by sophie

#sophie thatcher #interview magazine #interview #sound advice #updates #by bru #*

12 notes · View notes

snackugaki-jestsjapesjokes · 1 year ago

Text

blep blah, here have some old ass backrooms doodle content when the topic of "the beach episode" concept came up bluhp blooh brain nyooming but art hand isn't arting

i think what is super cute in modern fandom expression that I've seen is that in terms of making OCs or AUs is that sound seems to have a bigger role now than from what I remember when I was young. which I'm thinking has a lot to do with being able to clip audio easily or being able to make multi-track playlists whenever. y'all out here with reels of your art with voice claims and some of the most thoughtfully and artfully crafted soundtracks-- not even playlists, some of that shit is a straight up soundtrack level be real

89% tempted to try one of those shady "free" video/audio editing programs to make a LoFi chill beats study girl visualizer playlist with my iteration's boys ...

anyway gonna contemplate music headcanons for my iteration under the cut

From Turtle Tracks fan letter section, Archie run, #24

so real quick, my iteration is literally just them chilling, hanging out, being together in their mid 30s- early 40s, and then sometimes flashing back to their child/teen years in the 90s because tl;dr i have miiiiiinor beef my childhood turtles weren't quite as "90s" as they "could have been" (nvm I'm cackling at the milennial pop culture refs in Mutant Mayhem drop kicking me back into my adolescence)

but mehehehehe, keeping that they listened to Public Enemy and The Jungle Brothers

and aside from Top 40 musicians of the time... I feel like being outsiders themselves, having to sneak around to explore and learn about people and what's above the sewers had them eavesdropping into a lot of nighttime venues and getting into the underground and various niche subculture scenes that daytime Top 40 didn't play.

cannot tell me the lights, thumping and noise from bands playing hardcore or house or hosting cyphers or raves didn't attract these curious and funky little green dudes like moths to a flame

... Leo definitely fell in deep with the gregorian chant phase, soothing sounds of nature fads , a big fan of Orbital and he fell into that electronic, house, trance, eurodance rabbit hole right after. he also got into Celtic folk music but when his brothers caught his ass studying Michael Flatley to incorporate Riverdance footwork into his ninjutsu he got teased so mercilessly that he took great care to hide listening to it... which just made his stealth better so joke's on them heehoo

Not to mention they're from New York City, the underground music scene is always bangin' no matter the decade; feel like rap and punk got a lot of tracks on their mix tapes back in the day

Raph getting into the metal scene in his own exploring the city trips, and then progressed to music with that boom bap sound (cuz baby boy needs a way to come down off those high intensity moods idk ijs)

Donnie... just the amalgamation of his brothers, he needs that background noise while he's chewing on schematics and protoype development, he would definitely have been the mixtape maker/recording bootlegger (along with Mikey)

Mikey absolutely tagged along with his brothers sometimes whenever they went to their spots for music, though he himself backflipped into ska 'cuz Mikey is always for the people

my tmnt iteration (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt iteration omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

lny visit 1 | 2

Keep reading

#reminds me i need to make a battle map for them #i think what also tickles me #is I've seen a few fan iterations set themselves in the 90s too #granted seem to always be late 90s #which this is just me but #there's something a little fascinating about that #the 87 cartoon ran til 1996 #Those iconic trilogy movies did happen and were technically set in the 90s #and my beloved Next Mutation was also late 90s #They held a Save the Animals fundraiser rave that's peak 90s shenanigans #Archie comics also ran into 1995 after veering from the cartoon #but aside from NM... the depiction of teen culture then was always so broad as to be generic which makes sense in a way...#.... shit am I gonna fucking make a dissertation about this in the tags?#no... not today methinks #anyway tl;dr the kids who set their fan iteration anywhere in the 90s? ilu #y'all can wrest Leo being into gregorian chants that led him into trance and house music from my cold dead hands #Donnie (general) reeks of 'my watch is also a calculator' energy #so mine just extrapolated from there and mehehe

67 notes · View notes

headfullofpresley · 2 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 8,7K

Summary: They say opposites attract and you and Elvis are living proof of that. Your music tastes are as far apart as can be, but since you are always front row at all his shows to be the supportive girlfriend, he finally joins you for a night out in your world. Time to get funky.

Warnings: 70s!elvis, elvis being a disco hater, strong language, alcohol consumption, inaccurate timelines when it comes to songs etc, reader and elvis fighting people in the club 👀, mention of the colonel, the media being a bunch of asses, smut; dirty talk, handjob (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving & a lil of m. receiving if you squint), anilingus (f. receiving if you squint), kissing after oral, lil bit of choking and hair pulling, facial, swallowing, unprotected sex.

A/N: the girly in the pic is white and blonde but that has nothing to do with the fic- as readers' appearance other than her outfit isn't described :). anyways, this is just one of my delusional elvis fantasies turned into a fic. enjoy, babies! 🕺🏻

masterlist | suggested playlist

You had been steadily dating Elvis Presley since 1968. The two of you met in Los Angeles at a dinner event thrown by some big name music producer and while Elvis usually didn’t like attending these things, he was glad he did four sweltering summers ago in ’68.

The two of you hit it off right away, talking about everything and nothing. As cheesy as it sounds, it was a match made in heaven.

You shared a lot of similarities with the man- sometimes you joked he was basically the male version of you and he always wholeheartedly agreed. But there was one thing the both of you simply could not agree on.

And that was music.

Disco was a part of your soul; it ran through your veins like blood. It was a way of life. Disco was you.

To Elvis, disco was something you maybe danced to a little when having too many drinks- it made him want to scratch his eyeballs out more often than he’d admit whenever you played it throughout the house or hotel rooms for most of the day, but he loved you and therefor, he was just going to have to deal with it.

You felt the same about most of his music. You didn’t exactly hate his taste nor the music he made himself, but it just.. missed something. He had a few songs here and there that you could move to, but you needed more than that- you needed beats to let loose to. Still, you were always the supporting girlfriend and there had never been a show you hadn’t been at the front row for.

Sure, discussions about music between the two of you was not a foreign concept but it usually happened whenever you had one too many of those colorful cocktails during his shows or a night out and he was high on adrenaline after performing, but it never turned nasty or whatsoever. Despite the differences, you could still acknowledge that your man was an amazing singer.

You nor Elvis were planning to let get something this silly come in between your relationship or let this become a serious problem and although you knew you could never persuade him to like the same music you did, it didn’t mean you’d give up trying.

Elvis didn’t mind to have you dance around the hotel suite at the International with your records playing in the background or you going out on the town with the girls after his dinner show, but he drew the line of joining you to one of those… discotheque’s.

Or so, he thought.

You and the Memphis Mafia’s ladies managed to persuade the rest of the guys to join you on one of Elvis’ nights off to a club and naturally, he wasn’t going to stay behind all alone. To be honest, he could use the rest but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until you’d come back anyways.

Elvis simply wasn’t one for nightclubs or drowning himself in alcohol to have a good time, but something told him he was going to need a few drinks if he wanted to survive the night.

“Oh, come on, EP! You gotta let loose, get down and boogie, man!” Joe grinned teasingly at him as he sat at the dining table in the hotel suite, nursing a drink. The smaller Mafia member was dressed in a pair of baby blue well-fitted trousers and an equally as blue and flower printed shirt that had more buttons left open than necessary. According to Joe himself, the best part of the outfit were the boots with heels Joan put him in- making him look taller and a little slimmer.

“Zip it, Esposito- hippie lookin’ fool,” Elvis threw at his friend in good humor, putting on a gold belt he wore on stage a few times before as well.

You were lucky your boyfriend had a somewhat more flashy sense of fashion. He always stood out in a crowd but maybe that could also be because he was Elvis Presley- nonetheless, he always dressed amazingly.

You put your thumbs at him as he spread out his arms, waiting for your approval. He wore a pair of well fitted white trousers and a pink colored printed shirt on top of it, leaving the first few buttons open to show off the tan he was still sporting from your recent Hawaiian vacation, his white blazer matching with his pants. On his feet he wore heeled boots as well, though smaller ones than Joe did, as he didn’t exactly need the extra height.

“Do I pass your test, ma’am?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow and a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, making you nod your head and stand on your toes to peck his lips.

“Definitely- looking like a true disco king,” you teased, twirling around in front of him before placing your hands on your hips. “How about me?”

His grin grew wider as if his body was on automatic pilot as his eyes drank you in completely, liking very much what he saw. You always dressed well- whether it were dresses, skirts or pants like tonight, it always made him want to rip the pieces of fabric right off your body.

The red pants you opted for tonight hugged your curves perfectly, having him resist the urge to sink his teeth in your thighs. The silver shimmering halter top that only held itself together by a string around your neck and your ribcage didn’t leave much to one’s imagination as it dipped into a loose v-neck in the front and left your back completely bare. The equally as silver heels you wore on your feet and your colorful make-up you usually wore on nights out really pulled it all together.

And all he could think about was seeing you fall apart underneath him in the sheets, hair a mess and make-up smudged.

“You,” he smirked, placing his hands on your hips to pull you up against his chest, keeping your there as his hands slipped down to your ass to shamelessly squeeze the flesh through your pants. “look fuckin’ perfect,”

You hummed playfully, kissing him before he could you, neither of you really caring about the others in the room. If it wasn’t for Joe speaking up, you could’ve eaten your boyfriend up right there and then.

“Get a room,” Joe shouted, getting up from his seat with a laugh as everyone seemed ready to leave. Elvis pulled away from the kiss and looked at his friend, giving your ass another extra squeeze for show.

“You’re standin' in it,”

Joe just laughed, not knowing what else to say to that before turning to Joan. You giggled and pecked Elvis’ lips one more time before he allowed you to step away from him and hand him a pair of sunglasses, which he put on his face. You put on a pair of your own, pink heart shaped ones, and shoved the pack of cigars he handed you in your clutch before you slipped your hand in his and walked downstairs to the cars in the garage with everyone else following behind.

Boney M. was blasting through the speakers the moment Elvis set foot inside the club with you. He hated how he recognized the song and the fact that he actually knew the lyrics to freaking Daddy Cool, but he wasn’t going to complain.

You already seemed in your element, tugging him through the crowd and to the VIP section that was reserved just for “Y/N and entourage”. Maybe Joe was right- he wasn’t about to get down and boogie, but perhaps he could let loose a little bit and have fun with his girlfriend and his friends.

Besides, this was a whole different crowd than the people who visited his shows or even listened to his music. Some people turned their heads and pointed him out, but they seemed more interested in you. He knew you were a well known name on this scene- you did back up vocals for musicians he barely knew, but who were obviously big names in disco music. People also knew and loved you because whenever you visited a new nightclub, it became a household name instantly.

Elvis felt like he had stepped into a completely different world and he wasn’t too far off. He was in your world now.

You were already buzzing in your shoes the second you came inside and you could barely sit still- the kind of energy that usually radiated off of Elvis was now coming from you. It was so intense that it made him a little nervous, laughing at you as you swayed in your seat while lighting a cigarette.

“You wanna dance, honey?” he asked the obvious, already knowing the answer. You looked at him with excitement in your eyes, but then raised your eyebrows in suspicion as you blew out some smoke from the corner of your mouth.

“With you?”

“Nuh-uh,” he laughed teasingly, taking the cigarette from your hand to take a drag from it. “I need at least five shots before you see me down there,” he nodded to the dancefloor outside of the VIP section and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

The Memphis Mafia had the drinks flowing before you could even ask for it and drinks were poured for you and Elvis, which you greedily downed in one go.

Unlike your man, you didn’t need the liquid courage to dance your little heart out.

“You go take those shots- I’ll see you when you’ve grown a pair,” you told him in his ear so he could hear you above the music, laughing as you kissed his cheek and abandoned your clutch in his care as you got up and ran onto the dancefloor with the girls, making Elvis laugh and shake his head a little at your antics. You were probably one of the few girls he allowed to talk to him like that.

With the Donna Summer’s dreamy I Feel Love blasting through the speakers and colored lights dancing from one person to another, it didn’t take you very long to get lost in the atmosphere.

The sunglasses you had been wearing were stolen by Joan who was messing around with the others. They were dancing and enjoying the music, but they weren’t as captivating as you were.

Because to you, this wasn’t a simple night out to break the dullness of your weekly routine. This is what you did nearly every day, this is what you lived for. Not only did the girls, your boyfriend and the Memphis Mafia know it, so did the people that you were a familiar face to- they loved watching you and joining you on the dancefloor to try and get equally as lost in the music as you.

Your hips were rotating to Donna’s high voice, hands up and running through your hair as your head was thrown back, eyes closed. You were brought to a completely different world, so much so that you hadn’t even noticed Jerry and Red joining you. This wasn’t their scene at all but as The Sweet Inspirations joined the party, they wanted in on the fun.

“Here comes Elvis,” Estelle shouted in your ear with a laugh, making you open your eyes and look for him in the sea of people.

Strobe lights illuminated on his face and in his hair as he made his way through the crowd, having left his white blazer behind in the VIP section with Joe. The people around him barely gave him the time of day- they were either high on the music or some kind of substance and although this was new to Elvis, he liked it.

Just for tonight, he felt like a normal person.

Just as he reached you, the song ended and shifted into How Deep Is Your Love by the Bee Gees. He pouted playfully, slipping his arms around your waist and placing a flat hand on your lower back, pushing you against his chest.

“Damnit, I wanted to watch you dance, honey,” he laughed in your ear as he leaned down to you, placing an open mouthed kiss on the curve of your neck. You giggled as you swung your arms around his neck, looking at him as you swayed to the music.

“The night is still young,” you grinned, making him sway with you. He was a little stiff, but due to the shots he indeed took back at the table, he moved along with you. “Do you got enough drinks in your system?”

“What’d you think?” he grinned as he playfully crossed his eyes, laughing along with you as he pecked your lips. You knew you could never get Elvis to perform a whole routine for everyone to see with you, but the way he was swaying you to one of your favorite songs right now was already enough for you.

And when he started singing along, gently pressing his forehead against yours as his fingertips tickled your bare back, your heart skipped a beat.

“Have you secretly been listening to the Bee Gees?” you questioned teasingly as you pressed yourself against him a little firmer, letting your fingertips play with the hair in the nape of his neck. He grinned as he leaned down to your neck again, his hands running up your back as he planted a kiss on the heated skin of your shoulder.

“No, baby, you just play it so goddamn much that it gets stuck in my head,” he chuckled, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making goosebumps crawl onto your flesh. Your excitement was slowly turning into arousal- an effect Elvis always had on you, and he knew it so damn well.

He knew that if he’d gently sink his teeth in your earlobe and flick the tip of his tongue against it that it would get you to tug on his hair a little. A mean, teasing grin spread across his face as you moaned softly in his ear, which even above the loud music, was crystal as clear to him.

Rick James’ Super Freak suddenly blasting through the speakers reminded you that you were in public and in the middle of the dancefloor. You couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, but right now the excitement and adrenaline of the music was coming back to you- when you pulled back and grabbed his hands, he immediately widened his eyes as he realised what you were trying to do.

“Y/N- hell no,” he warned in a low rumble when you were already dancing to the beat of the music, trying to get him to move along.

You were laughing like crazy, already knowing this would freak him out- you allowed him to pull his hands back and when he pushed Jerry and Red toward you, you held your hands out to them.

Red looked at Elvis, raising an eyebrow as he shrugged and took your hand, Jerry following his example. You’d much rather see Elvis get down to Super Freak, but you took whatever you could get- the Mafia guys, who obviously had already more to drink than Elvis did, danced with you to the upbeat song. Elvis didn’t mind you getting all up close and personal with the guys because he trusted you and he was laughing his head off, making his way back to the VIP section to not look like the only fool on the dancefloor who was standing still.

It was like inside these four walls, you were a freaking robot. You barely came to the table for a drink- he noticed you trying to make your way over now and then, only for you to talk to someone you knew or run back because one of your favorites were being played.

You just didn’t stop dancing. Not for anything or anyone.

Even when Jerry and Red made their way back and Charlie lasted on the floor for a total of ten minutes with you, and even when all the Mafia ladies were catching their breaths, you were still going. He wasn’t worried though, since you were mostly dancing with The Sweet Inspirations who took a great liking to you- for obvious reasons.

Elvis recognized the tunes of Le Freak by CHIC and sipped from the Margerita you and Myrna had ordered for him in good humor. It was one of the few cocktails he liked and it got him tipsy pretty fast- which was your aim, because you wanted his ass back on the dancefloor.

You were about to get what you want, but not for the reason you were expecting.

Elvis could see everything and everyone clearly from where he was- he had a good laugh at the way some people danced and guys trying to shoot their shot with girls but failing. It seemed like a couple of guys had their sights set on you and the girls, dancing closer and closer to you and Cissy as you were playfully twirling her around.

He waited and sat back for a second- he knew you were perfectly fine standing up for yourself and grinned to himself as he saw you ignoring the guys completely, turning your back to them. They either couldn’t take the hint or were a bunch of asses, because they kept trying to squeeze themselves into your little dance circle.

At one point, Estelle literally told one of them to “fuck off”, and it was then that everything seemed to escalate. Just as he got up, he saw one of the guys pulling the string of your top that was neatly tied around your ribcage loose and putting his hands on your waist- you were grabbing onto your top to keep yourself decent and the fucker took this to his advantage, grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his chest roughly.

Elvis was flying out of the VIP area and onto the dancefloor so fast, the others were left behind in confusion. Sonny and Red realised he wasn’t going to dance with the way he was shoving people out of his way and storming over to you- they followed as quick as possible, but couldn’t stop Elvis from pulling the guy off of you and punching him right across the jaw. People who knew you were getting involved now as well as the guy’s friends and you quickly tied your top back together, grabbing onto Elvis’ shoulders as he was now in a screaming match with your assaulter- when the guy went in for a punch, you realised he made the biggest mistake he could.

Elvis, with great experience in karate and being faster, blocked him and landed a sharp slap on the side of his neck. This took the guy back, but as he noticed Red, Sonny and Jerry getting physical with his own friends, he decided he wasn’t done with Elvis yet. At this point, girls were getting involved as well and you let out a shriek as you were suddenly yanked back and off Elvis.

Now you weren’t an expert at fighting, but Elvis taught you a thing or two. Unlike him, you didn’t like carrying a weapon everywhere you went but he wanted you to be able to protect yourself and made you spar with him twice a week. It wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but you were glad about it now.

You avoided a slap in the face by ducking when you saw the girls' hand coming toward you and grabbed her arm, roughly pulling it behind her back. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, you pushed her into the crowd as hard as you could- the random girl didn’t seem like she had enough and came back for more, literally running toward you. You panicked for a second, stepping aside and sticking out your foot- she tripped and landed right on her face, but before you could walk away and go back to Elvis, she had pulled you down to the floor with her.

God, this bitch was crazy.

You didn’t know where anyone was, because quite literally half of the club was fighting by now, but what you did know was that you had to get this monster off of you. She seemed drunk and her movements were sloppy, a little slow even, making it easy for you to avoid her nails which she tried to scratch you in the face with. Grabbing her wrists, you pulled your leg up and kneed her in between her thighs harshly, rolling her onto the floor. You didn’t want to hurt this girl because aside from attacking you for no good reason, she didn’t do anything wrong- she was just drunk and caught up in the moment.

But as you were pinning her wrists to the floor and trying to keep her legs still by sitting on her thighs, she was screaming and writhing as hard as she could underneath you. She looked possessed with the way she was moving her head from left to right so fast her face was covered with her hair- you did the only thing you could think of to distract her and get away, landing a firm punch on her nose.

She stopped moving, grabbing onto her face as you let go of her hands and quickly got up. You yelled a quick “sorry!” but doubted she could hear it, running back to Elvis.

The guy he had punched before was nowhere to be seen, but he was in a new screaming match with two completely different guys now. Before any more fighting could take place, you got in between them and planted yourself in front of Elvis. You placed a hand on Elvis’ chest and looked at the guys, telling them to walk away and softly pushing their shoulders- your intention wasn’t to start something new entirely, but this could never go right whenever alcohol was involved.

One of the guys didn’t like the way you kept touching him and suddenly grabbed your wrist, shouting profanities in your face- at the same time, you were still trying to hold back Elvis, which was getting more difficult the angrier he got.

“Get outta here, you Presley whore,”

That’s it.

Elvis knew something like that would set you off and he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the colorful dancefloor. You thought he was going to drag you away, but when he didn’t, you took the opportunity to bend your knees and kick your heels against the guys’ chest so hard it made him fly back against the DJ booth.

“We should probably get outta here,” Elvis yelled in your ear, making you nod and take his hand as he put you back down. You grabbed Red’s arm as you were pulled past him and as he noticed you were making a run for it, he got everyone else to follow as well. Elvis snatched his blazer from the VIP section and draped it around your shoulders, using the chaotic atmosphere to his advantage as he took you out of the club.

“Shit! My sunglasses!” you pouted as you sat in the backseat of the car with Joan and Myrna, pouting at Elvis through the rearview mirror as he sat in the passenger’s seat, Joe’s boots in his lap because he couldn’t drive with them.

The entire car was silent as everyone looked at you until Elvis suddenly started laughing, throwing his head back as his shoulder shook with vibration and tears stung in his eyes. Everyone joined in and you couldn’t stay serious anymore too, pinking away some tears from the corner of your eyes.

“What?! I loved those sunglasses!” you hiccuped, laughing harder when Joan was gasping for air, slapping your thigh in the process.

“You broke a girl’s nose tonight- I d-don’t think you’ll g-get them back, Y/N,” Myrna wheezed, making you gasp through your laughter.

Elvis turned around in his seat, laughing even harder when he looked at you. It was partly the alcohol in his system that made him feel this way and partly the adrenaline of what just happened- despite it all, he was still having fun. Tonight he hadn’t been Elvis Presley the performer, but just Elvis.

Goofy friend, protective boyfriend and apparently, someone who did karate at a discotheque.

“Baby, you broke someone’s nose?!”

“I guess so!” you doubled over, holding onto the front seats as you giggled, looking back up at your boyfriend. “I just did what you taught me- the bitch look possessed, I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Damnit- can’t believe I had to miss that,” he joked, leaning forward to you to capture your lips in a kiss. He allowed it to turn a little heated, making everyone in the car protest as Joe managed to get you back to the International safely despite laughing so hard behind the wheel.

You and Elvis were still laughing as you said goodbye to everyone and were riding the elevator up to the top floor, but as soon as you got in the room and pushed him against the nearest wall while crashing your lips onto his, he knew the mood had completely turned around.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it.

Slipping his hands under the blazer and up your shoulders, he pushed the fabric off and let it land on the floor. You moaned softly in his mouth as he caressed his fingertips up and down your back and he softly but teasingly bit your lower lip when your hands traveled down the silk fabric of his shirt and down to his growing erection.

Palming him through his pants, he grunted and pushed his hips forward a little as his fingers found the strings of your top. He pulled the one around your ribs loose and didn’t waste any time as he did the same to the one around your neck, letting the skimpy shimmering fabric fall to your feet.

“You know,” you told him in between kisses, making him hum in response. “That was kinda hot- how you fought off those guys,”

You had seen Elvis do karate before when he was messing around with the guys or practicing with his teacher at the dojo, but you’d never seen him truly in action. You hadn’t had the time to get turned on by it when it happened because you were rather… occupied… yourself, but now that you thought back on it, it was just so hot.

“Oh yeah?” he laughed softly, slipping his hands over your ribcage and softly squeezing your breasts in his large hands, his thumbs caressing over your perked nipples. “You did most of it for the second half,”

“Hmm yeah, I was pretty good, wasn’t I?” you playfully wiggled your eyebrows at him, squeezing his cock through the confinements of his pants a little firmer. He groaned, chasing your lips with his own to nibble on your lower lip before sweeping his tongue across it.

“The best. We make a great team, baby,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up. You let out a little shriek as he threw you on the soft king sized bed in the bedroom, blowing some hair out of your face.

Propping your elbows on the mattress, you watched your boyfriend take off his shirt and belt, dropping them to the floor. That belt was worth a shit ton of money and people would probably get a whiplash seeing how casually he treated it, but neither you or him gave a damn about it now. Kicking his shoes off, he grabbed your ankles and took your heels off one by one before crawling onto the bed, hovering on top of you.

You ran your hands through his hair as he placed sloppy open mouthed kisses on your lips and over your face, working his way down your neck and your chest- you wanted to reach down to take his pants off, but you were too late as he moved down lower, letting his tongue swirl around your nipple before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it softly. Combined with the feeling of his hand sliding down your stomach and easily flicking the button of your pants open, shoving his fingers underneath the fabric once your zipper was done, you couldn’t stay quiet and he hadn’t expected you to- you had never been a shy one.

Your eyes met his as he looked up at you with a small grin, lips still attached to your breasts as his fingers creeped in your panties and spread your slick around before rubbing your clit in a slow pace. The sight of you gasping and the sound of you letting out small whiney moans made his cock twitch in his pants and he quickly kissed and licked his way down to your lower abdomen, removing his hand out of your underwear so he could take your pants off.

Impatiently, you helped him by pulling it down your hips as fast as you could and he laughed as he pulled the fabric off your ankles, throwing it as far away from him as possible when he finally managed to get it off. Your panties followed quickly by your own doing and he decided to make himself comfortable by taking off his last pieces of clothing too, making sure he was back on the bed before you even had a chance to move.

Not that you were thinking of being anywhere else but here.

He grabbed your thighs, bending them backwards a bit more as you spread your legs for him- you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore, letting yourself fall back on the soft plushy pillows behind you when he kissed the insides of your thighs.

“Fuckin’ pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself with a grin, your soft laugh turning into a gasped moan as he leaned in without warning and dragged his tongue through your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit. He sucked on it for only a few seconds before dipping his tongue down again and exploring every inch as if it was his first time down there.

Elvis liked to take his time with foreplay, so when he was pretty much making out with your pussy, you were definitely not complaining. Your hand found its way into his hair, nails scraping his scalp softly which made him moan right into your folds and sending vibrations right onto your clit- you moaned out his name, pushing his face firmly against your skin. With his hands still holding back your thighs, he allowed it and stopped moving as he held his tongue stuck out- you took the hint and held his head in place by grabbing a fistful of his hair, moaning as you shamelessly used his tongue the way you wanted to by twirling your hips. Most of his lower face and his nose were covered with your arousal and it only got him turned on more, thrusting his hips forward against the sheets underneath him.

Even when you let go, Elvis didn’t back away- instead, he went in more determinedly, pulling high pitched moans from you that came from your very core as he pushed two digits inside of you. With how turned on you were, it was an easy task.

“Oh my G-God, Elvis,” you groaned, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he pulled his face out from between your thighs with a gasp for air, his fingers relentless as he pumped them in and out of you. He shot you a teasing smirk, wrapping an arm around your thigh and resting his arm on your lower abdomen to stop you from trying to get away.

You didn’t want to get away, but as his fingers rubbed fast, consistent circles on your clit, you were pretty sure the floor below you could hear you screaming your boyfriend’s name. He knew you were close to climax by the way you were clawing at the sheets and his arms, inhaling sharp breaths through your teeth as you groaned.

He knew he was a bit of an ass for laughing, but he just loved how out of your mind you already looked while he was far from being done with you. He braced for the impact of your foot that you planted against his shoulder, trying to break free from his grip, and just laughed as you couldn’t get him to move a muscle. You squeezed your eyes shut, accepting your faith as you felt your orgasm about to rear its head around the corner- before it could, he pulled his fingers out of you and let go of you completely.

“Elvis!” you protested breathlessly and a little annoyed, opening your eyes. You could see him grinning but then you were met with the pillows underneath you as he grabbed your hips and flipped you around, pulling your ass back.

“God, baby- you’re so fuckin’ impatient,” he taunted, landing a harsh slap against your ass that left your thighs shaking. “What’re you in such a rush for, hmm? We got all night,”

You giggled softly at his words, swaying your hips left to right impatiently- he responded to it by grabbing onto your ass cheeks with both hands, spreading them and letting a dribble of spit fall in between them. You gasped softly at the wetness slipping over your second hole and down the inside of your thigh. Elvis grinned at the sight, leaning in to drag his tongue over it a few times before he dipped the muscle down lower, shoving the tip of it inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” you let out a little shriek, grabbing onto the nearest pillow you could find and squeezing it in your hands so hard your knuckles were turning white. Laughing at your reaction, he sunk his teeth in one of your ass cheeks and pulled away- when you looked over your shoulder, you watched him straighten up on his knees and taking hold of his cock, pumping it a few times before rubbing his tip through your folds, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit.

“So eager tonight,” he laughed as you pushed your ass back a little, trying to get him to slip into you one way or another. He squeezed your ass before moving it to your hip, letting it rest there as he looked at you with teasing eyes. “I love it,”

You hummed as you grinned at him, not able to still your hips and still trying to get him where you wanted him most- he was still being a damn tease, covering his cock with your arousal by slipping it back and forth through your folds, making you more needy with his dirty talk.

You loved him and you loved whenever he took his time with you, but you needed to be fucked.

Right now.

“Good God, Elvis- do you ever stop talking?”

There wasn’t any malicious intent behind your words nor did you mean them, but you did make sure to sound extra bratty.

Elvis knew this, but it did light a whole new fire inside of him and it gave you exactly what you wanted. He didn’t go slow nor did he give you time to get used to the stretch like he usually did- he let out a deep, nearly animalistic, groan as he pushed himself inside of you and thrusted into you at a quick, steady pace. He grinned as you let out a “fuck yes”, seeing your eyes roll in the back of your head as you lowered your head back on the pillows, his fingertips digging into your hips as he held onto them.

The bed was used to the weight of the both of you going at it, but the headboard banged against the wall with every single one of his thrusts. As one of his hands traveled up your spine, it felt as if he was leaving behind a trail of fire, alerting all your senses- he twirled his hand around your hair, holding it in a messy makeshift ponytail as he pulled your head back in your neck, leaning forward to force his tongue in your mouth.

His thrusts never faltered once.

You greedily welcomed the wet muscle, moaning in his mouth- before you could teasingly bite his lip, he had already broken the kiss and pressed the side of his face against yours, letting go of your hair to let his hand rest around your neck, fingertips placed at your jaw. The feeling of the very light stubble breaking through rubbing against your cheek made your muscles contrast around his cock repeatedly. His breath was hot on your skin as he grunted and moaned, his hair messily framing his face- you could cum right there and then.

“Startin’ to believe those fuckers were right,” he grinned, lapping his tongue along the shell of your ear, biting your earlobe. “You are a whore,”

Roughly letting go of your jaw and leaning back again, he grabbed onto your hips once more and slowed down his thrusts. You looked over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes at him as you moaned when he allowed you to fuck yourself onto him when he stilled his hips altogether.

“Maybe I am,”

The way you were looking at him and giving him one of your little teasing smiles, he had to hold himself back from fucking you right through the bed. Rushing a hand through his hair to get some out of his face, he tilted his head and smirked.

“Not maybe- you are, baby. My whore,”

He bit his lip, cursing softly when your walls spasmed around his cock because of his words, pushing back onto him harder and faster.

“Y-Yes, only yours, El,” you whined softly as he grabbed onto your hips and pulled out of you- you took the chance to roll around, welcoming him back in between your thighs as he once more thrusted himself inside of you.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, this time giving you the satisfaction of kissing him hungrily and making the headboard hit the wall even harder by placing his hands on either side of your head, fucking you as if it was his last day on Earth.

It were the little things that got you riled up when it came to Elvis. Things that might not be anything note worthy to some people, things that people might barely pay attention to when having sex with their partner.

But it was the way the cross on his necklace hung in your face and the feeling of his rings on your skin as his hand squeezed at your breast or was resting around your neck that got you moving one of your hands in between your connecting bodies to rub your clit in the same pace he was still thrusting into you.

You couldn’t look away from his face when he pulled back from the kiss to inhale a sharp breath of air, upper lip raised a little and hooded eyes boring into your soul. He looked absolutely stunning with pleasure written all over his features, some strands of hair sticking to the sides of his face and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

You were very aware that you weren’t the first one to see Elvis in a position like this one and perhaps you wouldn’t be the last, but all that mattered was that you had him now. And you’d be damned if you’d ever let him get away and allow someone else experience this force of a man.

Elvis knew you were close and he wasn’t going to deny you this time- he watched you arch your back a little, letting you cross your ankles behind his lower back to keep him trapped in between your legs. It was hard, but he managed to postpone his own orgasm as your muscles clenched around his cock frantically, his name rolling off your tongue in a mantra.

Just like he knew you, you knew him and you could see he wasn’t able to last very long anymore. His thrusts were getting sloppy, grunts louder and raspier- you didn’t hesitate when he told you to get on your knees as he pulled out of you and he stood up on the bed, rapidly jerking himself off in front of your face as he held onto the headboard of the bed with his other hand.

The way you sat there with your hands placed on his thighs, eyes closed and tongue stuck out, made him let out a shaky laugh. You knew it was coming, but the feeling of a few spurts of cum landing on your face still startled you- Elvis moaned as he watched you move a little closer, letting his cock rest on your tongue as he came, painting the back of your tongue white.

Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him as he tapped his cock against your tongue a few times before pulling back, closing your mouth and swallowing what he fed you. It wasn’t the first time you did it, but it was a sight he could never get enough of. As you grinned and showed him your tongue for proof that you swallowed it all, he laughed softly, catching his breath.

“If I knew we’d end the night like this, I would’a joined you to your little disco parties sooner,”

He got on his knees again and let himself fall back on the mattress, pulling you along with him and onto his chest. You smiled as you crawled on top of him, running both your hands through his hair while kissing him. You shivered as he caressed his fingertips up and down your back and ass, taking his lower lip in between your teeth to tug on it playfully.

“Disco makes me horny- why do you think I go dancing so much?”

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at you, not knowing if you were serious or not. While the music didn’t get you humping everything in sight like a damn fool, it was true that losing yourself in the music made you feel… some type of way.

Maybe that was a little secret you were going to keep to yourself, because you knew Elvis would never let you hear the end of it if he’d find out you were serious.

When you started laughing, he rolled his eyes and laughed along with you, giving your ass a playful squeeze. “You little slut,”

“I prefer the term whore,”

He looked at the finger you held in front of his face and grinned, sucking it in between his lips before he got you underneath him again and attacked your face and neck with kisses.

Thank God you hadn’t had too many drinks earlier, because something told you the night was far from over.

The next afternoon, a knock on the door woke you out of your slumber. Sitting up in the bed, you needed a few seconds to acclimate- you heard the shower running, which explained the empty spot in the bed next to you. With clothes scathered on the floor and one of Elvis’ sunglasses sitting crookedly on your face, memories of last night replayed in your mind, bringing a smile to your face.

You didn’t have much time to reminisce about your sexual adventures with your boyfriend as the person at the door knocked again, a little louder this time. You shot up from the bed, grasping your kimono like robe from the floor and putting it on while jogging to the front door.

You were glad to not be met with any of the guys, but with an employee of the hotel instead, bringing you the room service Elvis must’ve ordered before he went to take a shower. You gave the kid a generous tip after he rolled the cart with food in the room and closed the door behind him. Realising you were still wearing Elvis’ glasses, you laughed at yourself and pushed them up in your hair- stealing a croissant from one of the plates, you grabbed the newspaper and let yourself fall back on the couch in the living area.

As you noticed the front page of the paper, you nearly choked on your croissant- quickly sitting back up, you threw the croissant on the coffee table and ran into the bathroom.

Elvis nearly jumped out of his skin as the door swung open and you came running in, immediately stopping himself from humming a Donna Summer song.

You and that damned music- it was rubbing off on him.

“Have you seen this?!” you questioned although you doubted it, plastering the newspaper against the glass of the shower door. Elvis frowned and wiped away some fog, pushing his hair back as he squinted his eyes, looking at what you were showing him.

The King of Rock ’n Roll caught in Vegas brawl with his Disco Queen

“Read it to me,” he ordered, immediately turning the shower off. You looked at the picture of you and Elvis that were taken on a different day, sighing deeply as you looked at him, a bit doubtful to read it. “C’mon, read it!”

You sighed at the impatient tone in his voice and took a step back so he had enough space to step out of the shower and wrap a towel around his waist, opening the paper on the right page.

When you read the first few words, you looked at him again. “It’s just bullshit- let’s call Joe, he’ll know how to make this disappear,”

He sighed and shook his head, grasping the paper out of your hands and spreading it open in front of him. You grabbed onto his arm as you stood next to him, reading the words for yourself even though he was reading out loud.

“Elvis Presley and his hip-shaking lady Y/N L/N were spotted at Kaleido last night along with Presley’s entourage and back-up singers The Sweet Inspirations. They started off the night in one of Kaleido’s luxury VIP sections, enjoying drinks and conversation, but Presley and L/N didn’t seem to enjoy each other’s company like they did in the early years of their relationship – could there be trouble in paradise?” Elvis read faster and faster with every sentence and you gasped at the dumb things the media was writing, taking the newspaper out of his hands.

“Presley’s girlfriend of four years had no problems with leaving her man behind with his friends as she showed off her signature dance moves to the many on-lookers. Read: men. Not even Elvis’ friends were safe from her flirtatious behavior,” you continued as you paced around the bathroom, your fingertips crumbling the paper with how tight you were holding on to it. “Those fuckers!”

Elvis took advantage of your little outburst, stealing the newspaper from you once more to continue reading. His eyes traveled across the lies that were written about you enjoying male attention and continued at the part where they were writing about the fight that took place. They even had pictures that were taken by someone in the club printed on the page.

“Listen to this,” he told you, making you stop pacing and cross your arms in front of your chest as you looked at him. “Like his music, Elvis Presley is still stuck in old times. Just like back in 1956 during an unfortunate gas station accident with.. blablabla, he was the first one to throw a punch. He laid out three guys by showing off his expertise in karate, a sport he has been practicing since early on in his career, and according to one of our sources it was all done in a flash of jealousy after he saw his girlfriend getting a little too cozy with other party-goers. The same source told us that once everyone was too busy to notice, the couple got in a fight themselves too, screaming at each other and Presley dragging L/N out of the club like a rag doll. It would come to nobody’s surprise if after last night Elvis Presley has stopped diggin’ the Dancing Queen,”

Elvis barely read the newspapers anymore but he had no idea when they started putting polls with articles, 70% of the people having voted that his relationship with you wouldn’t last for another week. And since when were newspaper journalists so damn nosy about a celebrity relationship?

He tore his eyes off the photos covering half the page- photos of the moment he grabbed you and lifted you up, photos of him pulling you out of the club. To an unknowing eye, it did indeed seem a little like you and him were the ones arguing with each other. He knew everyone in his and your close circle knew better though, but this could damage both his and your reputation.

“What do we do now?” you questioned, letting out a deep sigh, letting your head fall against his chest as you stood in front of him. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you.

“Let’s call Joe,”

For the rest of the day Joe and The Colonel worked hard to keep today’s newspaper out of everyone’s hands, talking on the phone to God knows who- they were doing anything to get this story to disappear, which was reassuring, but you knew people have seen it already.

The Colonel, who usually went by the motto of “bad publicity is publicity too”, even made a visit to the Vegas Sun office himself to set things straight. Some bullshit story was one thing, but he wasn’t about to let the public think Elvis laid a finger on you, a woman.

He also suggested that you and Elvis go out on the town again tonight and see a Tom Jones show at the Flamingo, so the public could see you were still together and in a healthy, happy relationship.

So, after Elvis’ midnight show, you were sitting in a booth in the showroom of the Flamingo Hotel with Elvis, Joe and Charlie. Elvis usually sent photographers away after they took a couple of shots but this time, he let them linger around.

“My cheeks are about to burst,” you whispered to him as you kept smiling brightly, not wanting to let the camera’s catch you looking “grumpy” or “uninterested” as the media would twist it into.

Elvis laughed as he sat close to you, one hand wrapped around his glas on the table and his other arm resting around your shoulders. He leaned in to you and kissed your cheek, moving down lower to talk in your ear.

“That’s what you get for draggin’ me to your silly little disco parties,”

You nearly rolled your eyes at his teasing, but stopped yourself just in time when a camera flashed in your face. “Oh shush, you loved it,”

“I loved the afterparty more,” he hummed in your ear, flicking his tongue against your earlobe before kissing your neck, making you giggle. Caressing your nails over his thigh, he moaned softly in your ear as his hand found its way in your hair, hoping you were about to feel him up under the table when he felt your hand creeping higher and higher.

Though, before your hand was where he wanted it most in this moment, you tapped his thigh teasingly and placed your hand innocently on his knee.

“You’re gonna have to wait a few more hours then,” you grinned, removing your hand altogether to raise your glass from the table and bring it to your lips, watching Tom Jones sing his heart out while engaging with the audience.

Elvis squinted his eyes at you, grinning from ear to ear. “You little minx- you’re gon’ get it once we get back,”

You didn’t look at him but laughed, swaying to the music a little. He put his chin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek and then signed for Joe to send the photographers away. Both you and Elvis visibly relaxed a bit more and you turned your head, pressing a kiss on his temple.

“Can’t wait, babe. Maybe we should make a video, let ‘em know we’re extra in love,”

He knew you were joking, but now that you suggested it, it was all he could think about. Obviously it would be for his own personal collection only.

He knew it would take a bit of convincing, but luckily for him, he could be very persuasive.

taglist: @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @woundmetender @returntoelvis @prayerstopresley @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @septembersghost @ccab @angelborn-1998

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #70s!elvis #tamwrites

278 notes · View notes