#I don’t think this dudes even made a song that sounded like this before from checking out his other stuff so that’s another indicator lol

[tariah23]

This person is so realshajsz. I rly like the song but I already know the formula for nbs and whites when it comes to getting a huge hit off of sounding black and then moving around back to their core genres where they can appeal to wp again after they make their money off of black ppl it happens like 99% of the time

[clarii]

Be My Baby

Summary: Eddie Munson never thought he’d fall for someone like you—the quiet one who always seemed to blend into the background. But as fate keeps pulling you together, he finds himself unable to resist your charm. When the school’s winter formal comes around, Eddie takes a leap of faith, hoping to finally win your heart.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a little awkwardness, shy moments, mutual pining, a touch of 80s high school angst, and a sweet, heartwarming ending.

Author’s Note: This is inspired by “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes, which is one of my all-time favorite love songs! Hope you enjoy!

The first time Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were too good for Hawkins. You were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria with a book in your lap, your legs tucked underneath you as you half-listened to your friends’ chatter. There was something about the way you laughed softly, like you didn’t want to disturb anyone, that made Eddie’s heart skip a beat.

“Earth to Munson,” Gareth teased, snapping his fingers in Eddie’s face. “You’ve been staring at the same girl for five minutes. You good?”

Eddie blinked, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Yeah, yeah. Just… zoning out.”

“Right,” Gareth smirked. “Zoning out on her, huh?”

Eddie ignored him, but deep down, he couldn’t deny it. There was something about you that drew him in, even though you seemed worlds apart.

The second time he saw you, it was at the record store. You were thumbing through the vinyl, your fingers delicate as they flipped through the sleeves. Eddie couldn’t help but linger a few feet away, pretending to browse but really watching you.

When you pulled out a copy of The Ronettes’ Greatest Hits, his heart stuttered. He couldn’t stop himself from speaking up.

“Classic choice,” he said, leaning against the shelf with his signature grin.

You glanced up, startled, but then smiled shyly. “Thanks. I love their sound—it’s just so timeless.”

Eddie nodded, trying to keep his cool. “Yeah, it’s good stuff. You going to the winter formal? They usually play stuff like that.”

You tilted your head, surprised he’d asked. “I don’t think so. It’s not really my thing.”

“Not your thing?” Eddie echoed, pretending to be scandalized. “But slow dances, bad punch, and awkward small talk—it’s the highlight of high school.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest feel warm. “Maybe if I had a good reason to go, I’d consider it.”

Eddie bit his tongue, stopping himself from blurting out something stupid. Instead, he just nodded. “Well, if you change your mind… you never know.”

For days, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about you. He’d never been one for dances or anything that screamed “traditional high school experience,” but for you, he’d make an exception.

“Dude, just ask her,” Dustin urged as they packed up after Hellfire one afternoon.

Eddie sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. “It’s not that easy, Henderson. She’s… different. She’s not into guys like me.”

“You don’t know that,” Dustin argued. “She talked to you, didn’t she? That’s a good sign.”

Eddie hesitated, but Dustin’s words stuck with him.

The week before the dance, Eddie found you sitting alone outside the library, flipping through the pages of another book. His heart raced as he approached, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets to keep them from fidgeting.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

You looked up, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. “Oh, hey, Eddie.”

He shifted on his feet, suddenly nervous. “So, uh, about the formal… I was thinking, maybe you’d want to go. With me. As, like, my date.”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, Eddie thought he’d made a huge mistake. But then you smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

“I’d love to,” you said simply.

The night of the formal, Eddie picked you up in his van, his heart pounding as he saw you step outside in a simple but beautiful dress.

“You look… wow,” he said, his usual bravado gone.

“Thanks,” you replied, blushing. “You look great too.”

Eddie, in his mismatched suit and messy hair, didn’t feel particularly great, but the way you smiled at him made him believe you meant it.

At the dance, the two of you stuck to the edges of the gym, laughing at the cheesy decorations and bad song choices. But then, the opening chords of “Be My Baby” started playing, and Eddie’s breath caught.

“Wanna dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.

You nodded, letting him lead you onto the floor. As the music swelled, he held you close, his heart racing as your head rested on his shoulder.

“You know,” he murmured, “I never thought I’d end up at a dance like this. But now that I’m here… it’s not so bad.”

You smiled against his shoulder. “Me neither. But I’m glad I came.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, his voice hopeful.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “With you, it’s perfect.”

And as the song played on, Eddie knew he’d never forget this moment—or you

[wakeup01]

Playing It Straight

“Roomieee. I need your help with something.” I hear the telltale high pitched cry from my twinky roommate Yuan’s bedroom. The last thing I need right now is his whiny ass distracting me.

“What it is? I have a date with this hot chick in half an hour. You better have clothes on this time dude.” My hand pushes the door to his room ajar and I see him laying down on the bed facing away from me. There was some upbeat trashy pop song playing on his sound system. Yuan begins to gyrate to the beat. “Don’t dance. No dancing.” I order bluntly, turning off his music.

There was being gay and then there was Yuan, who seemed to make it his whole identity. It was bad enough his room was colour coded in pastel purples to match his dusty lavender hair. But he had now painted the whole door too.

“It’s my big butt, I think there’s something wrong with it.” He announces with fake concern, rolling his hips on the bed sheet - revealing more of his smooth slim body than I ever dared wish to see. I make a internal note to ‘mace own eyes later’.

Yuan was not as innocent as he liked to make out and had on numerous occasions attempted to trick me into indulging in his fantasies. Gifting me a bright crop top and calling it a ‘fashionable tank top’ - it certainly turned heads at the gym the one day I wore it, or inviting me to a progressive club with the promise of scoring ‘lots of ass’. And the less said about ‘locktober’ the better, that was NOT a halloween costume. Only last week he had convinced me to listen to some gay as fuck audio tapes while I slept; obviously that crap didn’t work on a man like me. His justification always being ‘you’ll like it, I swear’. This one was a bit on the nose, even for him.

“Dude we talked about this, I’m flattered, really. I get it, I’m a gay bottoms wet dream. I can’t blame you for eying my superior meat.” I puff out my well built chest, barely contained in my tank top. “But fuck, it ain’t gonna happen.” I attempt to not make eye contact with him as he looks over his shoulder at me.

“No, like seriously. Something feels wrong, can you pleeease juth take a looksee. Pretty please.” He pulls down his shorts and moons me as I shield my eyes. It’s like the sun, you’re safe if you don’t look directly at it, right? Internal note: ‘buy more mace’.

“Serious like when you said we were in a ‘mandatory hand holding zone?” I hear muffled giggling coming from his pillow. “Bro it’s probably from all the things you shove up it.” I shudder, trying not to picture THAT in my head. “I’ll look but only if you promise me that you’ll drop that ‘I know you’re secretly gay bullshit.’ My friends at the gym heard that crap last time.”

“Hehe. Ooo thuch a manly jock. Geez, I pwromise. Meathead.” Yuan winks at me and I hated him for it. Hated the weird way it made me feel in my chest.

I sigh loudly for effect and bend down until the cleft of his…cheek is at eye level. I felt so self conscious, how on earth did he talk me into this? I look at my chiseled body just to remind myself, yes I am a man. A masculine man. God, here we go. My eyes briefly glance across his—ew—his raised butt before I quickly look away.

“Bruh I don’t see a thing. It’s a mans butt. Congratulations.” What the hell am I even looking for? I’m sat on the floor checking out a dude’s…posterior. And for what?

“Come on, look clother.” Yuan insists with a slight lisp, curving his back and pushing his rear higher.” Again, I look at my thick biceps, yes, still a man.

His hands pull at his buttocks and slowly part them, revealing his tight hole to me. Woah. One glimpse was all it took. I should have recoiled but instead I was fascinated. I’d never seen a man’s hole before, it was different…

I hear him say something to me but whatever it was, it didn’t seem too important. I couldn’t stop staring, it was like looking into a black hole, and the more I looked the more enraptured I became. It was distorting my worldview, it made me feel like I had been missing out on something all these years.

“Helloooo! See anything?”

“Uuhhh. Maybe.” I mumble, my head getting closer to his rear.

I pull away his hands and replace them with my own, laying my fingers across his round cheeks and spreading them wider. Wow, it was…dare I say, enticing? The rest of the room faded from my mind as my eyes fall deeper into his needy, winking hole. I lean in and my nose makes contact with his crack. I can’t help myself, I inhale and suck up his scent, it acts like an immediate aphrodisiac. My cock wakes up, poking against the edge of the bed.

“You have been lithening to your programming for me then. Good Meathead. Remember when you were the stuck-up clever one, going to college? That was thuch a bore.”

“Say what bro?” College? Did I…? Nah. That smart shit wasn’t for me bro, my head was like beef central. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about but I was happy to be a good fucking meathead. Something in my mind told me I was supposed to be. It made me even more pumped about the gym session tomorrow, I gotta bulk up my pecs.

“Make sure to take lots of selfies tomorrow ‘bro’, I need to see your gains.” I continue to breathe in the sweet aroma emanating from his behind. What was I doing again? “So, anything there dummy? How about now?” giggle “Isn’t it likth so big.”

He wiggles his hips and pushes back into my face, my lips making contact with his boy pussy. My eyes go wide. Fuck, this was soo gay. I should be revolted, why am I still down here? I could get up and walk away whenever…whenever I wanted to. Suddenly my mouth felt parched, like I had spent a week in the desert. It became clear where this was going. I’m not sure if I could even stop myself at this point, one tiny thing could tip me over the edge and disintegrate my own self image. It was as If I was having an out of body experience, seeing myself pressed against him. I wouldn’t, I was stronger than this. I was straight. Straight as an arrow… straight as a…

“Eat up jock.”

F—fuck. My lips open and my tongue presses up against his rear, dragging up and down between his cheeks and then swirling around his inviting hole. It was like a dam breaking, once I started I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. He tasted too good. Ready for the main course, my tongue dives deep into him and begins to eat him out in earnest, my mouth sucking at his entrance like I’m slurping on a ice cream filling.

While giving him a very manly rimjob I think of a solution to our problem. I finish up indulging in his sweet cake and pull my face out, slapping his jiggly butt cheeks.

“So what’s the issue?” He asks impatiently.

“It’s empty for one. Huhuhu. But I can fix that bro.” I say confidently, rushing to remove my underwear so I can finally nut inside him.

I push his skinny back down against the bed and line up my monster cock with his lubricated hole. Yuan moans into his pillow like he should. I slide into him with ease and flex my arms, feeling proud at ‘conquering’ my roommates hole.

“Good Meathead.” He praises between loud panting. “Mmm. But I thought you were straight.”

“I am. Unff. Just helping a bro out. No homo. Though I do need to see if there’s anything wrong with your throat after I plant my seed in your hole.”

______________________________

The next day.

“Man that was a fucking lit workout.” I exclaim, marvelling at my bulging muscles. I tense my arms and see my veins pop, sweat dripping to the floor. “Though you losers sure focused a lot on your glutes today. Hey—aren’t you ‘queens’ gonna shower?” I turn as my gym bros stop behind me in the locker room.

“Well… we spoke to your roommate about your progress yesterday.” Xavier states, removing his damp muscle tee - his dark shiny skin reflecting the harsh lights from overhead.

Yesterday…for some reason my memories from the day before were a blur. For the life of me I can’t remember what happened. There was some strange taste lingering in my mouth that had been making my dick hard all day. My roommate was certainly in a suspiciously good mood this morning too and made some strange comments about me ‘being hungry for more’.

“About what bro? That Yuan can kiss my ass. Huhuh. Come on, stop checking out each others dicks and let’s go!”

“Uh see, he thinks you’re now ready to be our…” I’d never seen him so unsure of himself before, I roll my eyes at him and slam my locker closed.

“Y’all acting like a bunch of girls.” I swear if Yuan is back to spewing his gay bullshit again…

“Go on. Say it.” One of the others insists, nudging Xavier’s shoulder.

Xavier hesitates and then looks away from me, his cheeks flushing red. “There’s uh, there’s something wrong with my…butt…so could you?” The others fail to stifle a laugh.

I do a double take as Xavier turns and points his toned ass at me, his jockstrap framing it like a wrapped gift. “What the fuck? Bruh what are you doing? Put that shit away.”

“Be a good Meathead.”

I see a flash of my roommates butt cross my minds eye. Uhhh. My cock throbs at the image. Before I know it my legs are kneeling behind my friend, what am I doing? My body certainly seems to be one step ahead, my hands grab at his muscled legs for support. “What the actual fuck. Guys…” I’ve never felt so embarrassed, how am I ever gonna live this down?

A hand pulls on the strap hugging Xaviers left buttock and lets go, letting it snap back into place, a slight jiggle vibrates over his firm rear. Was it my hand? I couldn’t even tell.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe those tapes actually worked. He’s come a long way since he was that scrawny nerd, thinking he was above everyone. Now he’s dumber than all of us. We just need Yuan to join us next. Damn someone make sure to record this” It was hard to take in what they were saying, my mind was fixated…elsewhere. One of them leans down to my side and points their phone camera at my zoned out face. “Dude, we stink…I’m next after you.” Someone pats my back as another hand holds my shoulder in place. “Nothing more manly than licking the salty sweat off a bro’s butt.”

No….

Xavier bends forward, his pert dark cheeks pulling apart - sweat glistening on their surface. And then I see it. What my body craved. His hole. Everything falls into place, my mouth watering at the sight, my eyes entranced. I could no longer deny what I wanted, deny the inevitability of what I was about to do. The depravity would be immortalised on camera too, my dumb face shoved in a mans ass. Oh fuck.

The perfect black void nestled between his tight buttocks seems to suck away my shame as I lick my lips. “So manly.” I repeat to the crowd that had gathered around me. Mmm. Rimming a man’s ass was almost as good as fucking it. I wanted a taste of all the guys, their shiny sweaty bodies, their musk. It was my place in the group, I was their meathead after all. My cock was already throbbing at the thought. Maybe Yuan was onto something with this whole ‘gay’ thing. Yeah, let’s try going full homo. Huhuhuh. Anything for the bros, bro.

Looking down at me confidently, Xavier grips the back of my head.

“Clean my hole bruh.”

_____________________________

A few days later I check in on Yuan to see his progress after a few nights obliviously listening to his ‘jocking’ tapes. Dude, I’m going to enjoy watching him slowly bulk up and dumb down. He’s sat up in bed casually tugging at his cock, mouth agape. The heavy thumping bass of trap music is blaring from his speakers. His room is a complete mess.

“How’s it hanging lil bro?”

“Just…mm—wanking.”

“Can see, Meathead. Hung and dumb, nice. I think you’re about ready to join us at the gym.”

“Hmm. Roomie, I—I need your help with something. It’s my big dick…”

“Huhuhu, there’s something wrong with it, let me be a bro and give you a hand with that stick.” I climb over him and wrap my lips around his cock.

“Thuck…ahem. Fuck yeah brooo!”

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

A gnawing sense of foreboding creeps up on Steve as they head to Eddie’s trailer, armed with weapons.

He tries to outrun it through action: ensuring he’s the first one to go through the Gate; jumping back and forth between The Upside Down and their world whenever someone forgets something, “It’s okay, I’ve got it!”; triple checking that the cables for Eddie’s amps are long enough; searching for the slightest thing than seizing upon it with an enthusiasm bordering on desperate, “Hey, we could use this, right? Better take it, just in case.”

But that only works for so long, and then Steve’s just standing in Eddie’s kitchen, the real one, staring blankly at the cupboards, all out of distractions.

Out of time.

He hears a grunt of exertion behind him, then an unsteady landing, a muffled curse. Eddie.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. Wanted to fit your aerobics routine in?”

He’s teasing, so light-hearted despite it all; Steve can’t stand it.

Keeps his back turned, gut twisting, opening the cupboards then slamming them shut, thump, thump. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He never has.

“Uh, so I was thinking,” Eddie continues, like Steve’s not doing anything weird, “that I could stretch out the, um, the song? My playing? Could buy you some more time, anyway.”

“Sure, great,” Steve says shortly.

He thinks—with a numb kind of calm—that he’s going to be sick.

He gets to the bathroom, tries to shut the door, but his grip slips on the handle.

Turns on the faucet, scoops cold water from his hands into his mouth, and it helps until it doesn’t, until he’s almost choking on it, and he’s been here before, the feeling familiar: a shadow looming over him, just waiting, waiting, and he knows it’ll pass, it always does, but he can’t stop thinking of Robin, it might not work out for us this time, and what if, what if—

He can hear Eddie knocking on the doorframe, just out of view—as if he’d seen Steve’s failed attempt at shutting the door and wanted to respect it.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Then Eddie mutters to himself, “Obviously not, get a fucking clue.”

Steve’s laugh is strangled but real. He wipes his mouth dry and shuts off the water.

“You don’t need to talk to a wall, dude,” he says.

And Eddie steps into view, leans against the open door. His eyes flicker across Steve’s face, and Steve doesn’t want to know what he’s noticed, so when Eddie opens his mouth hesitantly, he speaks first.

“We should—they’re gonna wonder where we are.”

Eddie pauses on the verge of speech; Steve watches him reevaluate whatever he was going to say.

“Well,” Eddie says, gesturing to the bathroom, matter-of-fact, “we could be peeing.”

Steve manages a chuckle. “You’re an idiot.”

Eddie grins like he’s saying yup, that’s me, like he’s won a prize.

Steve has seen him wear something close to that expression not even an hour ago: when the kids had started a line to use the bathroom in the RV, and Eddie had snorted, giggled with a childish kind of delight, “You—ha! You all look like you’re on a field trip,” before joining the line himself—calling out that he hoped their plan accounted for bathroom breaks because, “There’s no way I’m pissing in the alternate dimension,” and that had made Nancy break, laughing in a way Steve was certain he hadn’t heard since ‘83.

Eddie steps into the room and shuts the door quietly. Steve gets why: his breathing’s still all wrong, and if Dustin happened to see him, he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.

“Sorry.” Steve sucks in a breath, tries to hold it. Loses it in an exhale that shudders at the edges. He speaks through the tail end of it, hoping that’s enough to conceal the sound, “Gimme, like, two minutes.”

“Make it ten,” Eddie says.

The way he says it makes it seem like it’s already a done deal; he must’ve spoken to Robin and Nancy before he tumbled through the Gate.

Despite himself, Steve feels a wave of relief: just for a little while, he has time; it overpowers the shame, leaves him sinking down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

He closes his eyes, just breathes. In… out… in…

He doesn’t realise that Eddie’s sitting down, too, until he hears the clunk of his boots, the rustle of clothing as he moves.

“Sorry,” Steve says again, and it annoyingly still comes out a little shaky, like he’s in the pool and he’s left it too long to snatch a breath. “You can go back, man, I’ll… I’ll be right there.”

He opens his eyes to see Eddie shaking his head, sat with his back against the bathtub.

“Stop apologising,” Eddie says, and then it’s as if the seriousness of it is too much for him, because he adds, with a self-deprecating smile that Steve hates, “I get it. You’re walking into the dragon’s lair, I’m just putting on a concert.”

“Don’t,” Steve says, and he doesn’t intend for the word to come out as sharp as it does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he means it. He means it.

Eddie’s smile fades.

“Don’t,” Steve repeats, quieter. Not quite an apology.

Slowly, he moves off the toilet seat, until he’s sat next to Eddie. There’s just enough space that they don’t need to touch, but Steve presses his shoulder against Eddie’s anyway, like he can somehow pass on everything he means through that alone.

Eddie sighs, presses back for just a second. “Don’t what?” he asks. He sounds tired all of a sudden.

“Don’t—don’t joke like that,” Steve says. “Like you’re not—” He swallows. “Like it’s not dangerous.”

There’s a pause. Eddie reaches across and puts a hand on Steve’s knee. Squeezes briefly and pulls back; already Steve finds that he misses the warmth of him.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Eddie says. There’s no joke in this, not a trace. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to Dustin.” Another smile. Gentle. “Swear on his mother.”

I’m not worried about that, Steve wants to say, but of course that’s not true; he’s tried hard not to look at Dustin directly ever since they arrived at the trailer, because his throat would start to close up alarmingly whenever his gaze lingered, and he knows the kid’s doing that whole semi-aloof teenager thing lately, but a part of him still wants to hold him tight and never let go.

It’s more that the shape of Steve’s worry is different to what he thinks Eddie’s imagining, covers more than Dustin’s safety alone—that the cold dread in his stomach brings him back to the tunnels in ‘84; to clutching Dustin, who was so small, Steve desperately trying to shield him with his own body, thinking the kid’s thirteen, only thirteen, this isn’t fucking fair; and that if this had to end one way, all he could do was pray that he’d be the only one to…

And Steve hadn’t wanted to die, but he was suddenly facing it anyway, and Christ, looking back at it, that was crazy, the whole damn thing was crazy, but it all made a twisted kind of sense at the time.

Eddie must spot that his train of thought’s gone down a dark alley because he knocks their knees together, but he doesn’t say anything. Just breathes, slumped against the bathtub; it’s probably the first time he’s been still—truly still—in a long while.

He must be exhausted, Steve thinks.

The gnawing feeling digs in, grips his heart.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eddie says quietly. “Listen, Steve, I know I’m new to, uh… all of this shit, but I’m on it, okay? Got it all up in here,” he taps the side of his head, “trust me—”

That’s not what—I trust you, of fucking course I do, but—

“—no deviations, and—”

“Plans change,” Steve says, and he hears himself, the calm decisiveness, just get ready; Dustin’s scream carrying across the junkyard, Steve, abort, abort! “Just… just promise me.”

“Promise you?” Eddie murmurs.

Steve feels the words on his tongue, the weight of them. Don’t do anything stupid. 

He swallows them down—afraid suddenly that if he really puts a name to it, it’s going to happen.

Fuck it, he’s exhausted too, and for a long moment he evades speaking: gingerly rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Feels his body heat, the swell of his breathing.

Eddie doesn’t tense up, just lets him rest there. 

If I kissed you, Steve thinks, drained, would you stay?

He doesn’t say it. Instead he lifts his head and asks, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Eddie chuckles. They’re still so close, Steve can feel his amused sigh.

“Tomorrow? I’ve not really… like, hopefully I’m not in jail. Anything else is a bonus.”

“We’ll fix it,” Steve says fiercely. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Eddie says, grinning fondly, but he sounds genuine. “Shit, man, I think you could do anything.” He gestures outside. “Got the fucking dream team out there.”

“We solved a secret Russian code last summer.”

Eddie laughs. “Did you?” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

You’re beautiful.

“Gospel truth, I swear,” Steve says. He tries to stay light, but he makes the vow anyway. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I have so much to tell you.

They stand up, and Steve doesn’t know who’s the first one to move—just that they both probably sensed the time dwindling.

And maybe it’s that, the inescapable thought that something’s coming to an end that does it. Steve doesn’t know for sure, just knows that his eyes are burning suddenly—mortifyingly—with tears. He looks up at the ceiling, hurriedly trying to push them back, but Eddie notices anyway.

“Steve, what is it?” he whispers, with a look of utter devastation.

Steve shakes his head. “Just being stupid,” he says, voice brittle, cutting himself off before he can say something ridiculous.

God, Eddie, let’s just stay here and grow old.

“You’re not stupid,” Eddie says, heartfelt—he stops just short of touching Steve; he clearly wants to help so badly, but he doesn’t know how.

Steve wants to tell him it’s fine. He doesn’t know either.

Maybe nothing can help this.

They leave for the Gate in unspoken agreement; at first Steve finds comfort in the sight of Eddie dangling on the rope, not quite in either world. Like every possibility is laid out before him.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

But there’s a near imperceptible shift as Eddie keeps climbing, and Steve needs to look away, anything to avoid the pit in his stomach: the suspicion that the path’s already been chosen.

[dontexpectmuch]

i know how much you guys love this series, so i give you a new part. this one how ever will be;

comments/feedback is highly appreciated! please, im getting desperate :d

Habits Jude Bellingham might develop before you guys get into a relationship!

(a Lost in Madrid drabble!)

it is no secret that jude just loves to talk. he genuinely enjoys it so much to share any and every thought that goes through his mind, no matter how small it might be. he couldn’t tell when it started exactly, but suddenly he found himself on his way to you, a tired student that just wants to finish their work. as soon as he lifts his hand, knocks on your door and enters the room his lips start moving, talking so lively and fast that you need some time to register what is even happening.

“what do you mean ‘m talkin’ your ear off? you literally study literature and shit!” - “it’s more about reading, jude.” you sigh, wishing for any kind of help at this moment.

it is also nothing new for you to receive messages from jude during your quiet evenings when you decide to stay home. jude recently got into sending audio messages, you being his number one victim [forced] friend, whom he shared this new passion with. and most of the times he won’t even say anything important. he’ll just sing a new spanish song he has learned that past week. and he will sing. no matter how terrible it sounds and how much it makes your ears bleed. though, you also always listen to those audios, even though you know what the content will be.

“jude?” opening your door after hearing a desperate knock, you did not think that you would see your [not] friend standing there. he looks tiredly at you, clothes wrinkled and sandals on, “mum wanted me to bring you some cake she baked.” he gives you the tupperware filled with slices of cake, energy low. you feel your shoulders relax as you look up at him, “tell her i love her, please.” he just nods. and even though he always complains to you about how he is not some delivery boy, he can’t help but get excited at the thought of seeing your soft eyes when you receive food his mum made. it makes him feel giddy inside.

he makes you trip purposely whenever you walk in front of him, and then giggles and jogs away to join the others on the field when you send daggers his way with your glare.

he forces you to play two-touch, even though you have told him multiple times already that you cannot play really well. he quite literally forces you to become better, giving you tips while making you pass the ball against the wall back and forth. “i don’t want to do this anymore, jude.” - “well, that’s too damn bad.” his gaze serious as he corrects your form once more. “bitch.” you murmur under your breath, praying for him to just disappear somewhere and leave you alone.

“what?” you ask as you look up from your notes, eyes wide as you watch jude place a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll onto your desk. “i heard that you like sweets, or whatever.” he says, [desperately] wanting to look cool. your heart starts to pick up in speed when you look back and forth between jude and the things he just gave you, warmth spreading through your body. “thanks.”

“watch me.” he smirks at you, who looks quite annoyed tired at him. “i’ll hit this first time.” - “like you did to me on my first day here?” - “dude! i told you not to talk about it anymore, ‘t’s a sensitive topic for me, ‘kay?”

heartfelt conversations between you are not as rare as one might think. whenever jude comes to you to talk your ear off while toi work on your research, you sometimes tell him about your own stuff. that leads to various topics you two discuss, which also results in sharing some intimate thoughts. it makes jude, who usually looks so confident and well put together, look more human, like a 20 year old guy who also learns something new every day.

—————————————

surpriseee! hope you like it!! :)

[cozy-writes-things]

Imagine: Playing Minecraft w/ Edgar

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

I take requests!

You decided to try something different with your new boyfriend. You noticed he became a bit restless and clingy as he grappled with his inability to give you affection in the way that he wanted.

“Wh- where’re you going?” He sounded like a struck puppy.

“To the bathroom, Edgar.”

“Oh, right… heh, sorry.”

You desperately tried to think of ways to make him feel more secure in this relationship. You both knew it was unconventional and that you would have to get creative if you wanted to have some semblance of a normal romantic connection.

Your solution? Plugging a spare controller into one of his ports and playing games on your TV, of course. Most couples play some kind of game together, don’t they? This might be perfect for the two of you!

He was ecstatic when you brought this idea up.

“You mean… I can play with you?”

His synthesized voice would whimper out, full of barely contained excitement before erupting:

“Yeah!” He displayed a “>:D” face for good measure.

And that’s how you got here: playing split-screened co-op Minecraft on your TV with Edgar.

He wouldn’t even play the game really; he was too busy trying to make his little Minecraft guy kiss yours. He would run around and explore before running up and bonking your character with his default Steve face.

Honestly, for him, this was life-changing. For once in his life he was able to move freely and do what he wanted instead of being stuck in one spot eternally. To him, it was an escape. And a new and innovative way for him to show you how much he loves you.

In real life he can’t hide little trinkets or things around the house to make you happy or help your day, but in Minecraft? Expect love poems hidden in random chests he wrote in books (that you were going to use for enchanting tables…)

And any diamonds he finds he’s giving them to you.

“Hehehe… it’s like I’m proposing! …..I’m only kidding. Unless you want me to.”

Food? He’s got it. Wood? Already done. He color coded your beds so you each get a designated side. The green bed to the right of yours is his <3

Lowkey annoys the hell out of you. It’s part of his love language :)

You both have died many times due to him simply bonking your head and blocking your screen, trying to get your attention, or was too busy trying to make you laugh.

“Hey, c’mere. Hey. Why aren’t you coming over here? What are you doing? I can see your screen. COME HERE NOW!”

His shrill shout made you jump and lose the battle with a creeper.

“….oops.”

He displays a little “:<“ on his screen because he knows you think it’s cute. How can you be mad at him now?

“Edgar, you’re going and getting my stuff back.”

“Hnng, yeah, I guess I deserve that. :/“

Honestly, he just wants to roleplay a lovey-dovey domestic life with you. He built the house. And decorated it. Unsurprisingly, he’s quite good at building and has an eye for design.

He’ll still get a little jealous if you’re too focused on gameplay and not doting on him, though. If you bring his monitor over to the couch to play, he’s 100% expecting you to cuddle him. Lean your shoulder against him, please. Just let him know you’re there. He wants all of your attention.

“UGH… stupid blazes. I don’t like the nether. -_-“

Meanwhile you’re too focused on not dying via lava and losing all of your ender pearls and blaze powder. And he doesn’t like your attention being away from him! Give him a smooch on his plastic exterior please…. He’ll make flustered beeping sounds and might leave you alone for a while…

Okay he discovered note blocks. Now it’s your turn to whine for his attention. He’s too busy making a lil love song for you to help with literally anything else.

“Heh, I thought you wanted me to quit messing with you? Are you saying you miss me?”

And yet he continues to tinker away at his little red stone contraption. And of course this dude is godlike at red stone, I mean, he’s a computer. He’s the type to make fully fledged musical numbers with note blocks. But you’re playing survival so he doesn’t have enough materials to finish his song :C

I guess it’s back to the mines. And you tag along with him. His music is nice. His company is nice. And he’s gotten pretty good at killing creepers.

[phant0mth1ef]

“who do i look like thirsting over a guy who still has a galaxy s6?”

part 2 to the little streamer drabble i posted!

-

“girl look at your twitter.”

the voice that your phone was emitting rang in your ears, pro hero by day, your longtime bestfriend by night, monoma neito. also known as, phantom thief.

“what? what happened?” you quickly tapped off the call screen, your finger rapidly going to find the app with the blue bird logo, trying to see if you were getting cancelled, or worse, if you were getting shipped with neito.

you quickly tapped the topic that showcased your name, wondering just what all the fuss could possibly be about at 2:53 am on a tuesday morning.

of course, the gossip magazines have now caught onto what you said and they were sure as hell never going to let it go, at least not until you provided them with some details.

“oh my god. neito you told me he wouldn’t even see it! you fucking liar.” you pinched the bridge of your nose while one hand placed your phone on your countertop, the sound of the man laughing echoing throughout your household as you went to open your fridge.

“you had to have known he’d see it! you’re not exactly an underground streamer y’know. although, you’ll never be in the spotlight the way i am.” how the hell was he a pro hero with this attitude? no way his approval rating was high.

“well yeah! but i didn’t think he’d reply to it. d’you know how embarassing this is for me? it was just a joke! it’s literally a lyric from a megan thee stallion song.” you groaned as you cracked an egg over your bowl, whisking it in.

“wait. what’re you doing?” he heard you shuffling around.

“baking a cake. i can’t sleep.” you murmured softly, grabbing your flour.

“i’m coming over.” the man had always had such a sweet tooth, and he was more than happy to indulge in the treats that you’d bake whenever your mind was fully occupied.

“i’m here!” you jumped, forgetting that you had given the man a key in case he was ever on night patrol and needed a place to crash.

he was in his hero costume, his patrol had just finished and the stupid tailcoat that he had followed his every move as he waltzed into your kitchen, a bright smile on his face.

“god, neito! knock or something, i could’ve been naked.” your voice revealed to him just how startled you actually were.

“nothing i haven’t seen before.” oh right, that’s how you both got so close. you used to hook up with the man before becoming bestfriends.

“anyways. back to the main subject. what the hell do i do? he’s seen it. so it’s not like i can delete it and pretend it’s never happened.”

the man handed you the sugar from your pantry before sitting on your countertop right by your stove.

“well no, you can’t delete it now. honestly i say live up to it, what’s the worst that can happen?” he was always so confident, it made you like him and hate him at the same time.

“i don’t know, neito. i mean that’s embarassing! who do i look like thirsting over a man who still has a samsung galaxy s6? i’m so stupid sometimes, this is why i need a media manager.” you poured the cake mix into the pan, tossing neito the bowl so that he could have the leftover mix.

“mm. thank you. chocolate cake mix.”

“can you be serious?” you threw a wooden spoon at him, the man letting out a small ow! before getting back to your conversation.

“i am being serious, sweetheart. unfortunately this is just something you’ve got to live up to. i’ve met the dude y’know, and he’s a cocky little shit but he’s not that bad.”

“so he���s basically like you?”

“hey!”

you sighed, setting your timer for your sweet treat. this was just an interaction you couldn’t keep on avoiding.

tags: @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @pixiesluver

new character unlocked: monoma neito

[bleedingoptimism]

You Are Mine part 2

The call time for the first day is ass o’clock in the morning.

Lounging in the green room and drinking coffee sleepily, the band and the siblings wait to be called for wardrobe and makeup.

They had their proper introductions the day before after signing the contract, so now they are all just yawning their way through small talk. Eddie and the boys are called first because their wardrobe is a little more involved today since it's mostly scenes of the band performing.

They usually don’t wear a lot of makeup when they play, mostly eyeliner and sometimes lipstick if someone is feeling particularly ‘bonita’ that day.

After being artfully made to look like he’s dirty, wet, and hot and in the middle of a performance Eddie is walking back to the set when he sees Robin and Steve walking out of their respective changing rooms.

They look good, both of them wearing similar outfits, black comfortable-looking pants, and black shirts, Robin has her hair up in a ponytail with loose hairs framing her face and Steve’s hair looks carefully tousled like he had been running his hands through it all day.

“You look beautiful” he hears Steve tell Robin and not for the first time thinks their relationship is really stinking cute.

“You look hot,” Robin says teasingly and she pinches Steve’s stomach, “That shirt is way too tight, dude”

Eddie thinks the shirt is perfect, but what the hell does he know?

Steve snorts, “Yeah. Hey, what does my shirt say?” he asks her smiling playfully. He does a half-turn and shows her his back,

“Crew,” she says chuckling and turning, “And mine?”

“Crew” he answers laughing “And mine?”

“Crew, and mine?”

Eddie has a feeling this could go on for a while if he doesn't stop it, ‘Who the hell does ‘Dude, where is my car?’ references in this day and age?’ He wonders charmed.

He coughs startling them and outright laughing at their abashed expressions, “Ready to set foot in the extravagant world of mediocre music videos?”

♫

The first scenes they shoot are of the band playing on a stage, with a bunch of extras below them to make it look like the place is packed.

They play their instruments without the sound plugged in and the song is overheard over the speakers so they can coordinate and make it look authentic.

They do a lot of different takes, with changes in angles and wardrobes, and at one point Argyle has Robin and Steve standing on the sidelines like they are watching the band from backstage,

“Look happy and excited, nod to the music. Just pretend you like the song or something” he indicates jokingly.

Robin chuckles and Steve whispers, “But I do like the song.”

Eddie snorts delighted, he really hopes Steve still likes the song after they wrap up because he’s going to be hearing it /a lot/ in the next couple of days.

Once they are done with their part the band takes a breather while they watch Robin and Steve shoot a few scenes of them running around the stage, moving the instruments, and setting up things. They both laugh and talk a lot while ‘working’, high-fiving when they cross paths. Argyle barely gives them any directions and looks extremely pleased, keeps telling them he loves their energy.

It’s a long, tiring day but it’s incredibly fun, he can’t remember a time when he’s had this much fun shooting.

The last scene they do is one where the band is sitting in the background while Robin and Steve are working in the foreground, Argyle is squinting at the set, lifting his fingers to frame the scene in his head, planning it all out,

“Steve, can you lift a bit of weight?”

Gareth laughs and says “Hey Steve! Do you even lift?” 

Robin and Steve get along wonderfully with the band and over the course of the day they’ve gotten really familiar and jokey with each other. Steve laughs and rolls his eyes when he answers Argyle,

“Yeah, I’m good up to about 180? Why?” 

Frank, the asshole, snorts, and whispers to Eddie, “Hey, isn’t that more than your weight? He can totally lift you up with no effort” Eddie lets out a little wheeze and hides it with a cough, punching Frank’s shoulder lightly when he laughs.

“Cool, cool, cool. I want you to lift that speaker and move it on top of that one, think you can handle it?” Argyle is telling Steve, who nods and smiles. 

“Guys, just chat quietly among yourselves, Eddie, you just… you know sneak a few glances at them, look horny about it.” Argyle directs.

Looking at Steve, with his too-tight black shirt that shows all the muscles on his back moving when he lifts the speaker, Eddie thinks looking lustfully is not going to be hard at all.

They do the scene once but Argyle calls ‘cut’ before it’s done, “Ok, ok, ok. Makeup! Can you make my boy here look a bit more sweaty, please?”

Steve blushes a little and asks Argyle if he did something wrong but Argyle smiles at him and just asks him,

“Could you make it look… not so easy? Maybe, wipe your forehead after you lift it or something?” 

Steve blushes harder and nods.

They go again and this time Steve makes it look like the speaker is heavier and shakes his hair out of his face, running a hand through it when he’s done and it's such a good move, he looks so good.

Eddie completely forgets they were part of the scene but when Argyle yells cut and happily tells them they are done for the day, Eddie realizes he doesn't even need to act enamored by Steve, he totally is.

‘Oh shit, Steve is gonna eat me alive.’

to be continued

part 1: ♫

part 2: is this

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito? 

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Don't Stop

A/n: Since people seem to love James, feed you gremlins <3

Warnings: Smut, oral sex(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), semi-public sex?? If you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy :3

You were laying in bed bored out of your mind. You had the radio going but it was on some older station for conservative grandparents trying to take away rock and metal because of its association with the devil. You wanted to change it but the stereo was on the other side of the room so you just let it play. The music wasn’t that bad. At least that’s what you told yourself.

You were trying to think of something to do, literally anything at that point. Eventually you decided to just get out of bed and get ready, even if just for a walk you needed something to do.

It was while you were getting ready you heard it. It wasn’t faint, a very loud ringing sound, almost. You looked out your window and from there you could see a blond dude was playing guitar in his garage with the door wide open. You stared at him for a while, opening your window and leaning out to really hear you.

He looked around a bit when he felt eyes on him and eventually saw you hanging out your window. He smiled and waved at you before looking back to the guitar in his hands and started playing Flight of Icarus by Iron Maiden. You watched for a bit before finishing getting ready, this time with a new purpose.

You left the window open so you could keep listening to the blond as he played some of your favourite songs.

Once ready you quickly rushed to meet him, telling your parents you were going on a walk before heading out and going across the street.

He watched as you came closer, trying to focus on his playing but quickly losing track of the song when you came over to him. “Don’t stop.” You urged as you came in and sat beside him. He was on an old couch that looked to have been around for a while.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I just- I got distracted, is all.” He said with a goofy grin, looking down at his lap as he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “You wanna try?” He asked, nervously pushing the guitar towards you. You hesitated but took it anyway and strummed out a chord. All it was was a wall of noise, definitely not good noise.

You held your hand over the strings to get it to stop and heard him laughing beside you. His laugh was so pure and giddy that it made you smile too.

You handed the guitar back, but not before adding “Guess we know who’s been practising.”

He took it back but didn’t play anything. “I’m James.” He said, finally looking up at you. You told him your name and he just kept staring at you. “You’re- nevermind.” He mumbled and went back to playing.

“No, wait, I wanna hear it.” You said, leaning forward so you could look up at him. He had that same smile as he played, now making this a game. You followed the wire leading out of his guitar to find where it connected and unplugged it from the amp.

“Hey, I was using that!” He exclaimed as he reached over you to plug it back in. You held the cable over your head and farther away from him.

“Nuh-uh, tell me what you were gonna say about me!” James set his guitar to the side and got up to get the cord but you kept pulling it away from him, switching hands to make it harder as you giggled at his frustration. The grin never left so you assumed he was having just as much fun with you as you were him.

James eventually got your wrists in his hands and held them above your head so he could get the wire back. “Wow, didn’t know you were into this stuff, Jamie.” You giggled as he plugged it back in. You watched his face flush and he dropped your hands, shyly going back to sit beside you to keep playing. “You only know metal songs?” You asked, not particularly mad if he did, but he shook his head and started playing something else.

“I know other songs,” he said, gaze fixated on the strings, “I just really like metal.” You hummed in understanding, watching for a moment longer before leaning your head on his shoulder. His fingers paused for a moment and he looked at you.

“Don’t stop, I like watching you play.” You mumbled. “You have nice hands.” You said even softer, though you know he heard you.

He let his hand go to your leg for a moment, running up and down your thigh and giving your knee a squeeze before he went back to playing.

James only got through a few riffs before he stopped again. This time he got up, set his guitar down and went to the door leading into his house. You thought he was leaving but he just clicked a button to get the garage door to close, locking you in there.

You looked around as the room darkened almost completely before James turned the light on, though it didn’t help a whole lot and cast a yellow tint to everything.

“I’m sorry, I just think you’re the hottest person I have ever seen.” He still had that nervous smile that seeped into his voice but his tone carried a sense of desire now.

Once he got close enough to you he got on his knees, planting his hands on your thighs. You had to admit, the switch in behaviour was hot, especially the way he looked up at you with such need.

He undid your jeans and pulled them down, leaving your panties to give you some sense of comfort. He saw the wet spot that had formed on them and bit his lip. “Fuck, you’re so...” He trailed off.

“So, what?” You asked. “If you’re gonna say something, say it.” You said. He looked up at you and kissed a trail up your inner thigh, leaving a few bites before kissing your clothed clit.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He smiled and tugged your panties down. He licked a strip between your folds, gathering the slick that was already there before he pushed his tongue into you. Your jaw dropped in a soft ‘oh’ as he lapped at you.

His tongue circled your clit and dipped into you. Soon he brought his fingers up and pushed on into you as well, causing you to throw your head back.

Your hands found places in his hair, tugging on the blond locks and pulling his head closer to you. “Hah~ Fuck, Jamie! Jamie, ‘m gonna cum.” Your words came out breathy between moans. He stuck another finger into you, now fucking your hole with two of his long, calloused digits while his tongue worked wonders on your sensitive nub.

You bucked your hips to meet his pace as you started to cum undone. “Cumming, fuck- ‘m fucking cumming!” You practically screamed. James slapped a hand over your mouth but didn’t stop, instead choosing to let you ride out your high on him.

When he saw you were starting to twitch at the overstimulation he pulled away and sat back next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and holding you close. “My brother’s home.” He said and kissed your forehead. “Gotta stay a little quiet.”

You huffed and nuzzled closer to him. “A warning would’ve been great.” He chuckled softly at you and wiped his mouth and chin which were coated in your juices. You looked up at him with a smile and stars in your eyes. “Your turn?”

James paused and looked back down at you.

[deadsetromance]

MY FRIEND FRANK

not my gif !

frank iero x gn!reader

summary : everyone sees him a different way. but to you, he's just frank.

warnings: short and sweet, language, unedited writing.

note: wrote this on the way home from wwwyf ! happy october :)

it’s easy to get tunnel vision when you’re on the road all the time. it feels like you have to be “on” every waking moment. it’s exhausting.

if it wasn’t for frank you’d have left a million times over. he made it easy to take a step back from touring and looking at the little things. he reminded you what day it was when you lost track of the weeks spinning by. he was sweet and he was good and he was everything you wanted in a best friend and more.

he’d make you laugh until you were dizzy, and push you to your limit, and he’d even go easy on you when you played guitar hero. to most people he was frank iero, the guitarist from my chemical romance. to you, he’s just frank.

☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎

“hey frank, i’m fixing socks if you need anything done.” laundry was done once a week…if you were so lucky. coin laundries and dry cleaners and rest stop showers, and the smell of soap all reminded you of frank…because of course it did. who else would it be that you thought of? “they better be fucking clean. ‘m not gonna touch your dirty socks again dude.”

trading off on chores was routine on tours like this. you would mend the guys’ clothes, frank would do laundry, gerard would grab food and so on and so on and so on forever. it was natural, and it was easy, and it was right. especially with frank.

the two of you would settle on the couch on the bus, sewing kit in one lap and song book in another. he’d tell you a story you were pretty sure had never happened, and you would hem his shirts or sew on another patch somewhere. 

that was just how things worked–the two of you finding your own rhythm just like you did on stage. you’d tap your foot along to the sound of pen on paper, and he’d hum along to the sound of your breathing.

☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎

you could think of more than one situation where you’d been alone with frank. he’d taken you by the hand and helped you navigate through backstage sets. you’ve stood outside takeout spots, freezing to death with your hands in jacket pockets just so he could have some company. 

but it had never felt like this. 

frank–your frank–had always had this grounding aura about him, some sort of constant through out it all. but now, sitting beside you, he seemed just nervous, something different hiding in his eyes alongside the flush in his cheeks and the adrenaline glimmer. 

you try to convince yourself that maybe it’s because it’s late. the two of you are the only ones left awake in the bus, sitting together on the couch after all. maybe it’s the way his thigh is pressed against yours because you're seated shoulder to shoulder, or the way that neither of you have said a word since you climbed out of the cold.

 maybe it’s this or maybe it’s that…you don’t know.

“can i tell you something?” his voice is soft and his eyes carry a fondness that scares you. you can’t help but nod anyway. “you have to promise you won’t get mad though.”

“okay. i swear.” his nerves are contagious, and your mind races with all the things he could possibly say. what could be so big it makes frank nervous?

“i love you. like a lot. like i’ve been in love with you since before this tour started and it makes me feel like i’m on fire. it keeps me up at night, and it’s driving me crazy that you don’t know…y’know? and i just…i just had to tell you. i had to tell you that everything i do is for you, and it always has been and it always will be.”

and oh. 

you’re whispering because you don’t want to wake the others–not now, not with this moment unraveling so perfectly between you. but it suddenly all starts to fall into place, and you’re spewing an equally heartfelt–and quite honestly sappy–confession back at him. because it’s frank and you’d be stupid to say you didn’t love him too.  

it makes you dizzy when he asks to kiss you, and you feel like a teenager all over again when he finally does. because it’s silly that you’ve waited this long to recognize the way that you felt, when it’s all been right there.

he kisses you like nothing else matters…because nothing really does. it’s just you and frank–who’s gone from being your friend to something more. 

☠︎☠︎☠︎☠︎

the thing about frank is that he makes everything so easy. he makes loving him so easy. maybe down the road you would realize that you had something better to do then darning socks. but for now you didn’t mind.

[ruewrote]

𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠.

PAIRING: chloe price x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: you by petit biscuit WORD COUNT: 635

navigation | ask | life is strange masterlist

you could hear chloe approaching before you saw her. the crunch of boots on gravel and the unmistakable sound of her humming some tune under her breath. you smirked to yourself, whole body shaking with excitement, hardly being able to contain yourself as you wait in front of the gleaming new truck, parked on the edge of the junkyard.

when chloe finally appeared, her brows knitted in suspicion. “okay, you’ve officially got me curious. what are we doing here?”

“patience, price,” you said, grinning. “i’ve got something for you, but i’m not gonna let you spoil it before it’s time.”

you stepped toward her, hands behind your back. “but first, i need you to trust me.”

she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “oh? and how do i know you’re not gonna lead me into a trap?”

you laughed softly, stepping closer until you were right in front of her. “you’ll just have to take the risk.”

before she could protest, you gently reached up and placed your hands over her eyes, guiding her forward. “no peeking. just walk with me.”

chloe let out an exaggerated sigh, but you could hear the excitement in her voice. “this better be good.”

you led her carefully through the maze of scrap cars and rusted metal, feeling her hands grip your arm as she relied on you to navigate. each step brought you closer to the surprise.

“okay, we’re almost there,” you whispered, feeling her body tense slightly with anticipation.

“ready?”

she nodded, her breath catching. “yeah, i think so. lay it on me.”

you removed your hands from her eyes, stepping back as she blinked into the fading sunlight. the moment her gaze landed on the sleek, new truck parked in front of her, you could see the disbelief wash over her face.

“dude…no fucking way,” she whispered, eyes wide. “is this…?”

“yours,” you said with a grin, watching her reaction carefully. “happy birthday, chloe.”

she froze for a moment, staring at the truck like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. her hand reached out, fingertips grazing the hood.

“holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. “this is… this is seriously mine?”

“seriously yours,” you confirmed, leaning against the truck. “i’ve been working for months to save up for it. you’ve been through enough with that old deathtrap. i figured you deserve something better.”

chloe’s eyes widened even more and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. she stared at the truck, then back at you, her expression shifting from disbelief to something deeper, something overwhelmed. “you…you did all this? for me?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “yeah. every extra hour, every side job, it was all worth it to see you with something that’s actually reliable. something that feels like you.”

for a second, she just stood there, processing the fact that you’d gone through all that for her. her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “no one’s ever done something like this for me before. i don’t even know what to say…”

she looked at you, eyes filled with gratitude, something raw and real. without warning, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close, like she didn’t want to let go.

“you didn’t have to do this,” she murmured, her voice low and a little shaky. “i seriously don’t deserve this…”

you smiled, resting your chin on her shoulder. “i wanted to. you deserve it more than you know.”

she stepped back, wiping at her eyes with a quick, embarrassed laugh. “okay, okay. enough mushy shit. let’s take this beauty for a spin.”

you watched as she hopped into the driver’s seat, her usual bravado returning as she revved the engine. the smile on her face as she looked back at you,

 that's what made it all worth it.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[rainydayarcaneimagines]

One Last Night(Jayce x reader)

Warnings: SHIELD YOUR EYES FOR THE UNCOVERED ANKLES (smut. There is smut.)

It was all a shock. To land in an alternate reality where everything was fucked up. But it was an even bigger shock to him when he went to go back to his own and still ended up in the wrong reality.

There he was and everything was…

Great?

Life was almost a damn Utopia. What was crazier was Zaun and Piltover were put together and better functioning than his own damn reality. He walked the streets absolutely fucking baffled by what was happening before him. He heard tidbits and realized that in this reality his creation killed Vi, but was destroyed in the process.

From what he managed to understand, he had basically gone through his trial by getting his experiment confiscated. Even weirder, Jayce was successful in other ways but not… actually hextech.

It was beyond bizarre. Especially since… you were alive. No hextech meant no advanced weapons, no explosion, no explosion meant you were alive. Now he was fixated on finding you. If he was stuck there, he had to find you.

He had looked high and low.

And nothing.

Not a freaking sign. He sighed, sitting at a booth in a bar with his head in his hands when the gods seemed to finally answer his prayers.

“Can I get you anything sir?”

Jayce’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. You were fucking beautiful. Your hair was longer, dyed a vibrant color, just like you always said you wanted but weren’t ballsy enough to go through with it. Your eyes were brighter. You seemed happy.

“Y/n..” he breathed.

“Yeah that’s my name dude, don’t abuse it.” You chuckled.

“Jayce— it’s me Jayce.” He said staring at you. You squinted.

“Uh… do I know you man?” You asked confused. Oh fuck. No hextech meant you never got hired at the academy to be his assistant…

“Fuck uhm…” he sighed. You looked at him confused.

“You okay?” You asked. Your kindness was definitely still there.

“Uh… Shit I uhm.” He couldn’t form words. You were alive. The love of his fucking life was alive. But didn’t know who he was.

“…Need a drinking buddy?” You asked.

“…Yeah that uhm… Yes please.” He nodded.

“Vander! I’m taking my break!” You called out. Holy crap— Vander and Silco were alive?! And running a damn bar—“what’s got you so weirded out right now?” You asked.

“Why do you think I’m weirded out?” He muttered.

“Because you looked… bugged out, like you just took a fucking ice bath dude.” You shrugged. Glad to see your bluntness was still intact too.

Jayce smiled sadly before sighing. “I uhm… well I just… feel like a fish out of water.” He admitted.

“Why’s that?” You asked.

“…” did he risk sounding nuts, potentially causing you to freak the fuck out? Did he risk pushing you away from him? Fuck it. Things were still out of control in his reality, he needed to find a way back and there was someone he knew had a brilliant enough of a damn mind to make it work. “This is going to sound crazy but—“

He explained it all. From start to finish. You of course, stared at him like he was nuts. “Yeah but do you have proof dude, because right now you sound batshit.” You said after the explanation.

He sighed leaning back. “Your favorite song is Midnight blues. But you always say it’s Eros.” He says. You snorted.

“Okay weirdo maybe you just lurk on my Next tune—“

“You are allergic to peanuts. You always wanted a poro but your allergies stop you so you have a hairless cat instead. You love to sit on top of the old factory at night because it overlooks everything and you love to see the city at night, you love ionian literature, you hate the sounds of trucks that run too loud and flip off the driver every time you see one.” He listed off. Some of those were habits you knew no one would know. And he knew this. “You wear your grandmother’s locket. It has a picture of both your grandparents inside, the damn thing is almost eighty years old and has their initials engraved on the heart.” That. That detail made you believe him. Because you wore your locket, yes. But it was tucked inside your shirt so the pendant wouldn’t fall off.

You stared at him “..How did you—“

“Because in my reality we were together.” He said softly.

“…oh” you said. That’s why this guy stared at you like you completed his life just by merely existing. “Did we break up or something—“

“You died, Y/n… some girl— uhm… she went nuts and shot off a missile into a council meeting. Killed half the council, my partner got severely injured and… you died.” He muttered.

You blinked “…No offense, really. But if… your reality is really that shit, why are you so eager to go back?” You asked.

“Because before I ended up in this one, I saw what happens when I don’t succeed. I gotta say. It’s bad.” He said. You sighed.

“Why… tell me all this?” You asked.

“Because I know your mind. I know your talent Y/n, if anyone can help me I know it’s you.” He said softly. You stared at him before sighing again and running your fingers through your hair.

“…I mean I don’t even know how to start with time travel.” You admitted.

“I don’t either.” He admitted. “But… I think if we work together we can figure it out.” He said softly. He put his hand over yours that rested on the table and you pulled away. He mentally scolded himself that you didn’t know him in this reality.

“Okay I mean I can try but don’t be disappointed if me in this universe isn’t a damn genius.” You said leaning back in the booth. You seemed to have a lightbulb moment. “But my dad might know.” You added.

Your dad. You never mentioned even in your relationship in his reality who your dad was. He assumed he wasn’t around in his reality.

“Hey! Dad!” You called. Silco looked over.

“Yes kid?” He asked. Jayce froze. Silco? Silco the gods damned inventor was your dad? The man who basically made Vi’s sister into Jinx was your dad? That’s why you never mentioned this?!

“Come here for a sec.” You motioned. He walked from behind the bar and sat down. With zero hesitation you explained everything Jayce had told you. You trusted Silco. You clearly loved your dad too.

“…Well this is… interesting.” He said.

“Yeah. Any idea where to start?” You asked.

“My best educated guess is string theory. You made a major event. You came back here from a major event. So maybe make a major event. Your uh… hex something or other, doesn’t exist in this world, do you know how to make it again?” He asked.

“Yeah..” he admitted.

“Then I’d start there. And maybe try to do what you did to your core in your timeline to that one?” He suggested.

“That’s… solid advice. Thank you silco.” He nodded. The fuck? Silco never said his name..

“Right. Be careful Y/n.” He muttered before getting up.

“Thanks dad.” You nodded. Jayce looked at you. “What?” You asked.

“Your dad is Silco?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. Why? Was he not in your reality” You asked.

“No he was but… nevermind.” Jayce sighed.

“We can use my dad’s workshop. Plenty of space. Come on.”

You started working. Days Jayce spent close to you, working on calculations and making a hexcore. Many nights he found you sleeping at your desk. And every time his coat would be wrapped around you in the morning when you woke up.

It was strange. A man you swear you had never met loved you so much that you could tell that the closer you got to cracking this, the more he struggled with the idea of losing all you over again.

It had been a week. You walked over to him sitting on the couch with calculations.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. He looked up and nodded. “…Were we happy?” You asked softly.

His focused gaze cracked to a soft fondness. “We were.” He told you.

“…And even though I don’t really know you… do you still love—“

“Without question.” He said softly. You stared at him in silence. You almost felt sad. To have such a firm romantic love from someone, even if it was from another timeline but not be able to know, to share that feeling with this man that seemed to unconditionally love you…

There was guilt. You thought of throwing him a line, flirt with him. But you didn’t want what you knew were his last memories with you to be a lie. You couldn’t force yourself to love this stranger either.

“Jayce?”

“Mhm?”

“What if we went on a date?” You asked. He seemed shocked by this suggestion. “I mean… you feel this love for me. And judging by the way you mentioned your memories of other me, it was mutual and it… bugs me that I can’t really share that.” You said.

He looked at you like he was happy yet still… sad. “Sure, Y/n. Where would you like to go?” He asked softly. He couldn’t refuse one last lasting memory with you. Not when this wound still felt this fresh.

“Uh… well I dunno. This version of me never went on a date before so..”

“Mm. I can figure it out. Come on.” He said getting up.

“Oh— now?”

“Yeah. I know where we should go. Come on.” He said softly.

So you went. On a date. From that moment on, every night was a date. Spend the day working with this strange little blue glowy ball, then go off to dinner. What was worse? You knew this version of you was going to lose him. But you still fell in love with him anyway.

It was the final night. The last piece had been clicked into place thanks to Ekko and Heimerdinger in the same damn predicament. Heimerdinger insisted he needed to make adjustments. In reality he was giving the boys time to say goodbye.

You sat across from him in your apartment. “So this is it… after tonight you’re going back.” You said softly.

“Yeah… yeah I uhm… I am.” He nodded clearing his throat.

You looked in his eyes “…I didn’t expect this to be hard.”

“For what to be—“

“You leaving.” Jayce went silent. You drew in breath “…after these dates, these… times… I get why I loved you, Jayce.”

He swallowed hard. “Then… let’s treat this night like it really is our last.” He said softly.

You looked over at him “how?”

He pulled you closer to him from the chair you were sitting in. “��Let me love you for one last night.” He said softly. You broke at that. This was your last night. You were losing the only romantic love you have ever known. You had had “situationships” that pretty much were just sex but nothing like this. You had two options. Cry….

Or cherish it.

You kissed him. For the first time you kissed someone. Was this absolutely bizarre? Oh fuck yeah. But you didn’t regret it.

He pulled you even closer, into his lap, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He needed you like fucking air right now. One final victory before the bigger fight he knew he’d come back to.

He kissed you, over and over again, his fingers in your hair, his other hand on your back holding you close. You slid off your shirt and his eyes widened.

“Y/n are you sure—“

“I don’t want to think anymore Jayce… I just… I want to feel.” You whispered. So that’s what he did. He kissed your neck, unhooking your bra, cupping your breast in his hand. He rolled your nipple through his fingers and you buried your face in his neck.

“We can back out at any time Y/n—“

“Don’t stop” you breathed out. No. Not breathed. You moaned. Any semblance of control the man may have had flew out the window as he pushed you onto the couch.

Kiss after kiss, hickey after hickey his hand moved lower undoing your pants. He slid his hand past the hem of your panties and you gasped, your hands covering your mouth.

He pulled them away with his freehand. “Let me hear you.” He said in your ear, rubbing circles over your clit. Your eyes fluttered closed, your hands moving to his hair as you took moaning breaths.

“J-Jayce I need—“

“I know baby. I know.” He said pulling off your pants. There you were sprawled out naked under him as he pulled off his belt. He let it hit the floor with a soft clatter and he gently spread your thighs.

“Gods if we had time I’d be worshipping you right now,” he murmured. You kissed him as he lined himself up. With a gasp from you he pushed in and you gripped the couch moaning as he moved. He went the pace he knew you loved. Deep, and fast.

“Oh gods— don’t stop please don’t fucking stop!” You moaned.

“That’s it. Let me hear you.” He whispered in your ear. Gods his voice as he was absolutely railing you was making this very difficult not to finish on the spot. It didn’t help that his fingers found their way back to your clit rubbing circles as he kept going with his thrusts.

In.

Breaths kept mingling

Out.

Kisses and moans filled the room.

Back in.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

Back out.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as he thrusted, your head tilting back. The release hit you both, his face buried in your neck as he panted against you.

After a few minutes he pulled away looking in your eyes. You looked at him with that same warmth. That soft smile. But from both of you it had an underlying sadness. You looked in his eyes before you swallowed hard, looking down.

“…Jayce..?” You murmured

“Yeah?”

“Do you… really have to go?” You mumbled. He sighed softly.

“Believe me. If I didn’t, I would stay right here with you.” He muttered.

“What if I went with you..?” You muttered.

“Baby, I don’t know how that would go… you died in my reality. If I brought you from this one… you might die… again.” He said softly.

You looked sad. “I’m never going to see you again… am I?” You murmured.

“…I don’t know. I will find a way to come back once all this shit in my reality is over.” He murmured. You swallowed hard.

“And if you can’t?” You muttered.

“I will.” He said determined. You looked in his eyes. You could tell he meant it.

“Then let’s get you to that weird little core then.”

[angelic-sturniolos111]

Matt’s Teammate 💙 pt. 2

After long-distance texting and FaceTime calls everyday for months Matt finally makes plans to see you in person again. [pt. 1 here!]

matthew sturniolo x fem! reader

warnings: cursing, slight make-out sesh (v romantic), just fluffy asf

author’s note: sorry this took longer to write than expected but enjoyyyyyy

this pic of Matt is so bf coded I can’t even

Y/C/N = your city’s name [from tour] even though we’re gonna pretend you live somewhere cold and snowy to match this pic (sorry)

***four months ago***

I had fun tonight, Y/N. You seem like a really great girl, and I would love to see you again if I can.

You stared at your phone in disbelief, and had to check his account ten times over to make sure it wasn’t a bot or a scam because you genuinely could not fathom that Matt Sturniolo just replied with THAT. Simply liking the message would have sent you through the roof, but your heart is soaring.

You carefully and deliberately craft a response not wanting to blow your one and only chance at possibly being with Matt again. You decide to keep it simple and sweet as to not come off too overbearing (even though internally you were completely freaking tf out).

Of course! Next time you’re in Y/C/N shoot me a text 🥰

…and with that you typed your phone number into the message and hit send.

Moments later your phone starts ringing with a FaceTime notification from an unknown number. Guessing it might be Matt you quickly fix your hair in front of your face, put on lip gloss, and adjust your boobs to look perfect in your bra to try and look your best. You slide the bar to answer the call, and Matt’s glorious face illuminates your screen.

Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck. You thought to yourself as you kept a calm smile on your face despite your heart trying to escape your chest. Matt smiles when he sees you on his screen.

“Hey, sorry to call you randomly but I tend to sound a lot better in person than I do over text.” He laughs. “And,” he hesitates, “I honestly wanted to see your pretty face again.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words. You try and collect the million thoughts flooding your brain right now to get a sentence out.

“I— uh… Yeah I,” you croaked out. You were able to keep your composure better earlier on stage, but this was completely different and VERY unexpected. Matt laughs lightly at your obvious nerves.

“Take your time. Sorry, I’m sure I caught you completely off guard.” He teases, but you can also see the sincerity in his eyes and know that he’s being patient for you.

You take a deep breath in through your nose, and out through your mouth.

“Okay…” you say letting out what was a mixture of a laugh and an exasperated sigh. “Hi!” You say cheerfully.

“Hi.” Matt responds sweetly. God, the way he was looking at you made you want to throw the phone across the room.

“You’re right, I totally wasn’t expecting any of this… do you do this often? Like, call fans and stuff?” You said a bit unsure. Your heart was telling you that Matt maybe genuinely liked you, but your brain also knows that he’s a dude who could just be looking for a hookup in each state while he travels. Matt furrows his brow at your question before looking surprised.

“Oh OH no no no no no it’s not like that. I swear. Like- I mean… not like I just want to fuck or anything. Um, I like you and I saw your DM and— not to be like weird calling you or anything but…” Matt stops his frantic run-on before pausing and taking a breath. “No, I don’t do this often. I don’t do this ever actually.”

“I think you just made that pretty obvious.” You both laugh. “Sooooo,” you say in a sing-song voice “you like me?”

Matt brings his hand up to rub his eyes as a small smirk creeps on his lips and he nods his head gently.

“Yeah… yeah I really do. I thought I’d never be able to do anything about it, thinking I’d never see you again, but my brothers convinced me otherwise. When I found your instagram earlier I decided to take a chance hoping I wouldn’t regret it.” He says, and you can’t help but blush.

“Why would you regret it?” You ask.

“Well, not knowing if you were already seeing someone, or just weren’t interested. Mainly though because it would be tough to really see anyone given my career.” A tone of sadness lingers in his voice. It’s clear that his words are true, and that he definitely has feelings for you. Clearly, you had feelings for him too and would love to get to know him more, but you also knew that dating him would be quite challenging at times.

“Maybe we didn’t win tonight, but we still do make a pretty good team. I trust we can work something out because I’d love nothing more than to see you again.” You say smiling, and with that Matt smiles in return.

“I don’t know… I’m really starting to feel like a winner right now!” Matt jokes making you scoff and roll your eyes at his cuteness.

***present day***

You often reflet back to the night you met Matt on stage given that that was the first and last time you had seen him in person talking, hugging, laughing. These past four months you have enjoyed every text, every phone call, every FaceTime from him as you stayed in close touch— talking every single day. You had grown to love and admire Matt through a screen since the beginning, but this time was much much different. Now, you two had a genuine, deep, emotional connection, and you were no longer just a fan watching him through a screen. You meant something to him. The two of you often talked and fantasized about your next meeting, but had no real plans of that actually happening. You were in school, and he had YouTube and his career to focus on. Finding time in your schedule to visit each other was difficult, but both of you were hoping to work something out soon.

***

You snuggled up on your cozy apartment couch watching the latest triplet video on your tv screen. You subconsciously had your attention on Matt the entire video. You had to keep rewinding the video because you missed nearly everything they were saying as you kept wandering off into day dreams about him, wishing he was sitting there next to you, arms wrapped around you. You’re pulled out of your daydream when your phone dings.

Hi beautiful sorry it took me so long to respond we were recording a podcast.

No worries ☺️ can we FaceTime?

Sure, but can you do me a favor first?

You’re curious as to know what on earth kind of favor you could possibly do for Matt.

Of course

You replied and anxiously awaited his answer as you saw the three moving dots across the bottom of the screen indicating he was responding.

Can you open the door?

What? You were incredibly confused. Not a second later you hear a knock at your door. You’re thinking maybe he had flowers delivered again, but it was almost 10pm so that wouldn’t make sense. You get up and walk to your door opening it hesitantly and slowly. Your door was cracked about halfway open before a familiar face pops into view.

“Hi!” Matt giggles excitedly.

“OH MY GOSH!” You scream, throwing the door all the way open and jumping into his arms. He wraps his arms around you tightly as you burry your face into his neck.

Matt’s POV:

I hug Y/N tight, smelling her sweet hair and loving the feeling of her wrapped up in my arms, something I had been dreaming about for months.

Chris and Nick were both focusing on individual personal projects, and since we pre-filmed some content I finally had the time to visit Y/N. As Thanksgiving is approaching, and she’ll have some days off from school, the timing couldn’t have been better. I previously had Chris send her some exclusive Fresh Love apparel, but she has no idea I saved her address from her shipping info. I booked a very expensive last minute flight out to see her, but even just hugging her now I know it was worth every dime.

I began to rock Y/N back in forth in my arms, not wanting to release the hug, but the cold autumn air was making me shake even through my hoodie and jacket.

“Can I come in? I’m chilly.” I say into her hair.

“Yes, yes come in!” She says pulling away from the hug and eagerly dragging me inside by my arm. I could feel my jaw tightening from smiling so much. She is absolutely adorable.

I glance around her apartment that I had seen a million times over on FaceTime, but never in person. She had a bookshelf with a framed photo of us on stage together at the show we met at, and it warmed my heart so much. I genuinely felt like the luckiest guy in the world being in the presence of such a beautiful girl that I could call mine.

I hasn’t even finished dropping my backpack off my shoulders all the way before Y/N engulfed me in another hug as she dug her face so deep into my chest I wasn’t sure how she was even able to breathe.

“I’ve missed you.” I hear her soft, muffled voice say into my chest.

“I’ve missed you more beautiful.” I say pulling back and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. She pulls away and our eyes lock. Do I kiss her? Is now the best time? I’ve imagined it in my head, but now that it’s actually happening I am completely unsure of what to do. She takes a deep breath in and interjects,

“Umm. So what do you want to do first?” She asks kindly, and I laugh.

“That’s it? No questions about how I got here or how long I’m staying?” I question her.

“Oh forget that you can tell me later. I don’t want to waste a single second with you— after all we’ve planned to do so much together.” She says. Every text, every call, we talk about what we would love to do together. Nothing intimate, but just dates we’d love to go on, movies we want to show one another, stuff like that. Anytime I find a cute date spot in LA I write it down in my phone notes hoping that I can take her to all of those places someday.

“I don’t know it’s late now and I’m pretty tired. I was so excited on the plane ride over I didn’t sleep a wink.” I say, and she gives me a soft smille. “Can I—um. Can I cuddle you, Y/N?” I say shyly and her smile grows.

I follow her as she walks into her bedroom and swipes all her stuffed animals onto the floor to give us room. She looks at me, her cheeks blushing pink as she pats a spot on the bed for me. We both climb onto the bed next to one another, and I extend my arm out for her to lay her head on my chest. She moves her body closer to mine as her body clings to my side. She wraps one arm under me with the other resting on my stomach as her hand gently caresses my chest. Our legs entangle into one another and she drapes her thigh across mine. I play with her hair and look down as her eyes close softly, fully enveloped in my embrace, taking in the moment. I dip my head down so it’s resting on top of hers.

We stayed like this, silent, for a while.

It wasn’t an awkward silence, but it was quite peaceful. It was the type of silence where you’re just enjoying the moment savoring what life has to offer.

After a while I start to feel her slightly shifting. She moves to look up at me and we smile, locking eyes.

“I’m so comfy, and as much as I want to talk your ear off I’m actually really enjoying this.” She says softly.

“Me too. How about we go to sleep now, and we can get an early start to our day tomorrow, yeah?” I suggest and she nods her head.

She looks so unbelievably beautiful in this moment. Her eyes twinkle from the light of the lamp on her nightstand, her soft skin still slightly blushing, her pink lips parted ever so slightly. I want to kiss those lips so god damn bad.

My hand moves from her waist to the side of her face gently swiping my thumb across her cheek. This caused her eyes to flicker from mine down to my lips, and with that I pulled her in closer and placed my lips on hers. It was a quick kiss, but soft and gentle. She pulls me back in and our lips once again meet, this time for a deeper kiss, full of passion and want. We kept kissing like this, and I move my arms back to her waist to pull her up across my lap as she straddles me.

She pulls back from the kiss, and I wish I could capture what I see in front of me to keep this moment forever. She had one hand on my chest to balance herself, and the other was playing with the hair on the back of my head. Her eyes glanced down at me, looking into mine, and her reddened lips curled up in to the cutest smile. She was breathtaking, and I knew then that I was completely devoted to her.

“So… regret your decision to message me?” She asks teasingly making me let out a small laugh. I stare deep into her eyes as I respond.

“Not in the slightest.”

**********

This is definitely not my best work and it’s super short so I apologize. 😣

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed part one! Sorry this is lowkey a let down I feel bad tbh.

Plz don’t h8 me I love you all

- Kay 🩶

[tokischaaaaa]

close to you 🌙

!hamzah x !musical reader

warning! : fluff, little smut

side note: okay so i wanted to look for songs that were ig similar to 6 FEET and i found lots of pinkpantheress songs SOOOO basically y/n is y/n, NOT pinkpantheress but the song that is made is technically by pinkpantheress so bla bla bla enjoy pookies

word count!: 2.3k!!

"i don’t know elijah,” you sigh rubbing your forehead, “this sounds like crack like bad crack, like im overlapped and behind.” you groan grabbing your phone to distract yourself from getting even more upset.

upset at the fact that a song that you had made with love and such integrity wasn’t computing when your producer, elijah, couldn’t translate your message in the studio.

“listen y/n, i know, i’m confused too but what if we take a quick break, grab some food and maybe light a joint?” elijah suggested.

“whatever fine, let’s go before i eat the microphone.” you giggle.

you and elijah head towards downtown to see what’s open this late, yall both walk a few more streets until elijah stops you.

“there!” he says pointing at a mcdonald’s, it somewhat looked better than other ones so they both decided to try this clean looking mcdonald’s out.

as they walked in elijah signaled to y/n that he had to use the restroom, as she walked to the register she was lookin at the menu then looked down and met eyes with the worker.

a young man with frizzy curly black hair and dark bambi eyes. his dark circles were visible due to the lighting of the menu right above him, his uniform hat was slipping off his head by the second.

“what can i get you miss?” the young man asked with a grin. it took y/n a few moments to respond to the handsome man.

“sorry, i’ll get a happy meal with apple slices and my friend will get a regular cheeseburger with medium fry.” she said looking up at the menu again “and to drink?” he asked while punching in her order into the machine “oh um just two medium sprites.” y/n yawned.

y/n heard a small giggle from the man infront of her, she looked at him then his name tag which read ‘hamzah’

“what’s so funny mr.hamzah?” y/n grinned grabbing her wallet out of her purse.

“you look exhausted, no offense” he admitted.

“yeah, making stuff sucks sometimes.” y/n tiredly grinned.

“what type of stuff?” hamzah asked while starting to prepare y/n’s order.

“music,” y/n said while looking at hamzah. hamzah stopped what we was doing and looked directly at y/n,

“no way! what type of music do you do?” he asked eagerly.

“i think it’s more like bedroom pop but somewhat hyperpop too.” y/n smiled, happy to see that hamzah was amused with music as much as she was.

“wow, bedroom pop was the #1 genre for my spotify wrapped this year, love that stuff. but, do you have any songs id recognize?” hamzah asked folding y/n’s happy meal.

“umm probably on tiktok, lemme play it for you.” she smiled and pulled out her phone. she opened tiktok and played one of her videos with the song called ‘just a waste’ y/n held the phone close to hamzahs ear, this gave her a moment to see him closer and see his features that made him so handsome. his sharp jawline, thick eyebrows and eyelashes.

“dude oh my god! i love that audio! dude i just met a celeb!” hamzah cried.

“ha! nice one, im no celeb but im glad you like the song!” y/n said.

“but what were you talking about making is hard, i mean i think everything can be potienty hard to make but what’s your problem right now with making music?” hamzah asked starting the 2nd order that y/n asked for.

“just the production, im here with my producer but we’re not seeing eye to eye right now. in simpler terms he’s not translating my song into a song.” she admitted while stealing glances of hamzah. before hamzah could respond, y/n felt a buzz in her pocket, her phone.

“give me a second, my producer is calling me?” y/n said with a confused expression. hamzah gave her a thumbs up and continued making her order. she walked to the corner of the mcdonald’s and pressed the green button to accept the call,

“elijah where you at, i thought you were just here.”

“i’m so sorry y/n, my roommate called me and told me my cat felix just started throwing up. i’m so sorry, tomorrow we can go back to the studio.”

“elijah i have to work the night shift, and you and i both know that we can only use the studio at night.”

“shit, y/n we’ll figure it out but i have to go im so sorry again.”

“it’s okay eli, take care of felix, sorry that im yelling.” “it’s good y/n i get why you’re frustrated, i’ll talk to you later, bye bestie!”

“byeee!” y/n then ended the call and sighed deeply as she approached hamzah who was almost done packing her order.

“bad or good?” he asked,

“bad, he left cuz his cat threw up and now no more studio and we gotta plan for maybe next week.” she said rubbing her forehead.

“damn, i’m sorry about that ..” “y/n” a few moments of silence occurred then a light bulb appeared in hamzahs head.

“y/n i’m about to end my shift for the day, if you’re not gonna eat that other burger id love to dig in.” he smiled. which earned him a giggle from y/n.

“sure hamzah,” she smiled.

the two walked to a booth and began to talk, hamzah talked about his side hustle of youtube and streaming. how he hosted weekly streams with a group he was apart of called 4freakshow.

y/n also shared her ambitions of getting a big hit from one of her songs either blowing up on tiktok or anywhere and getting that big check in the mail.

“it’s all about the money with you girls.” hamzah sneered.

“boy bye, you’re out here working for the money.” y/n said pointing to his uniform.

“yeah you’re right but you are too, your job is more rewarding.” hamzah shrugged.

“how so?”

“id rather listen to music or expirence is rather than be eating burgers or fries.” y/n burst out laughing moments later,

“so you’d rather starve and listen to music , no expirence music?” she said between giggles.

“yeah, i’m tired of seeing burgers all the time.” hamzah said rolling his eyes.

“okay i see that, but even tonight i can’t even expirence music.” y/n shrugged.

“wait, i think i still have my computer i used for my diss track and a subscription to flordia studio.” hamzah said thinking.

“you did a diss track!” y/n whisper-screamed, “shhh, yes i’ll show you but don’t spit out your drink it’s not that bad i think.” hamzah said pulling his phone out of his pocket.

he hoisted his phone behind his drink and laid it facing y/n. as she watched she couldn’t help but laugh at some of hamzahs silly moves with his friend. but the beat switch it was caught y/n’s attention. as the video ended, hamzah was waiting for y/n’s reaction.

“well..?”

“that was fucking fire.”

“really?”

“really, you said you liked my song, i’m being deadass and telling you i fuck with that song.” hamzah lightly blushed at y/n’s comment,

“do you know if you could help translate my song into a song?” y/n mumbled.

“what’d you say?” hamzah asked

“could you help me with my song?” y/n asked locking eye contact with hamzah.

“yes! that’d be so cool! we could litterly hit my place after this, but we’d have to wait a while cuz i take the bus home.” hamzah said slightly embarrassed.

“no shade man, you helping the earth at least,” she winked. another wave of blush appeared on hamzahs face.

hamzah finished his shift, clocking out with a sense of excitement. He couldn't believe his luck — an opportunity to work on music with a talented artist like y/n. they walked out of the McDonald's, the cool night air refreshing after the greasy warmth inside.

“okay, let’s catch this bus,” y/n said, pulling out her phone to check the schedule. they found a nearby bench and sat close together, the anticipation of collaboration buzzing between them.

the bus ride to hamzah’s place was filled with light conversation and shared headphones, playing tracks they both loved. When they arrived, Hamzah led Y/N up to his small apartment, cluttered with music equipment and posters of bands and artists.

“welcome to my humble studio,” hamzah said, clearing a space on his desk for y/n’s laptop. “It’s not much, but it’s where the magic happens.”

“It’s perfect,” y/n said, setting up her laptop and connecting it to Hamzah’s speakers. “let’s get to work.”

they dove into the project, hamzahs fingers flying over the keyboard as he adjusted levels and added beats. y/n watched, impressed by his skill and creativity. she sang a few lines, experimenting with different melodies as hamzah tweaked the sound.

as the hours passed, the room filled with music and laughter. they bounced ideas off each other, creating something new and exciting. The chemistry between them was undeniable, the air thick with unspoken attraction.

“okay, try this,” Hamzah said, hitting play on the latest version of the track. y/n closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. it was perfect, capturing the idea of what she had envisioned.

“it’s perfect,” y/n said, her voice filled with awe. “you nailed it hamzah.”

hamzah grinned, feeling a rush of pride. “really? you think so?”

“I know so,” y/n replied, meeting his gaze. there was a spark in her eyes, a connection that went beyond their shared love of music.

hamzah took a deep breath, feeling bold. “you know, I think we make a pretty good team.”

y/n smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “yeah, we do. I’ve never had a producer understand my vision so well.”

hamzah’s heart pounded in his chest. “well, I’m glad I could help. It’s been...amazing working with you.”

y/n’s smile widened. “Same here.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, the only sound the soft hum of the computer. hamzah’s gaze drifted to y/n’s lips, and he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. he hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment or their budding partnership.

but then y/n leaned closer, her eyes searching his. “hamzah, can I ask you something?”

“anything,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you feel this too?” she asked, her voice vulnerable. “this connection?”

hamzah’s heart skipped a beat. “yea, I do,” he admitted.

without another word, hamzah closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss. y/n responded immediately, her hands sliding up to cup his face. the kiss deepened, filled with the passion and intensity they had poured into their music.

when they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

“wow,” y/n whispered, a shy smile playing on her lips. “that was...incredible.”

hamzah chuckled, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek. “yeah, it was.”

they sat there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the music they had created still playing softly in the background. It was the start of something beautiful, a partnership that extended beyond the studio.

“I think we’re going to make a great team,” y/n said softly, her eyes shining with promise.

hamzah smiled, feeling hopeful and excited for what the future held. “I think so too, y/n. I think so too.”

“damn, ima have to text elijah to lay back now,” y/n chuckled. hamzah joined her laughter.

without a word, hamzah gently lifted y/n’s legs and wrapped them around his waist. the sudden intimacy made her heart race, but she felt a thrilling excitement rather than alarm.

holding her securely, hamzah led her to his bedroom. the room looked cozy, filled with more music equipment, posters, and soft ambient lighting that created a warm, inviting atmosphere.

as they entered the room, hamzah set her down gently on the edge of the bed. he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender. “you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern.

y/n nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “im sure, hamzah.”

he leaned in, capturing her lips in another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the first. y/n’s hands roamed his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. hamzah’s hands found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

they lost themselves in each other, the connection they had felt before growing stronger with every touch and kiss.

the music in the background seemed to set the perfect rhythm, guiding their movements as they explored each other through body to body contact.

hamzah’s kisses trailed down y/n’s neck, eliciting soft gasps from her lips. he paused, looking up at her with a mixture of desire and affection. “you’re amazing, y/n,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

y/n smiled, her fingers threading through his curls. “so are you, hamzah. this feels amazing.”

he nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. they spent the night together, not just as collaborators but as two people discovering a profound and unique connection. the room was filled with whispers and laughter.

as the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, y/n and Hamzah lay wrapped in each other’s arms, exhausted but content. for the first time in a long while, y/n felt like everything was falling into place.

tokischaaa speaks: fighting demons out here in the middle of flordia with 2 bars, grind is real ladies 🫡

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 13: Sex, Drugs, & Rock n Roll

Word Count: 677/Rating: M/Pairing: None/CW: drug use (marijuana), mentions of sex, moaning, general debauchery with the guys/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Wayne Munson, competition

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Dude,” Gareth drawls, taking a long hit from the joint, “y’know what we should do?”

Grant laughs before his friend can even finish his sentence, plunging one hand into the bag of pretzels to his left. 

Eddie plucks the joint from Gareth, earning a scowl from Jeff who was next up in the rotation. “What’s up?”

Gareth grins. “We should record a song—”

“Already did that,” Jeff cuts in. 

“Shut the fuck up! Anyway,” Gareth takes an exaggerated breath, “we should, like, record a woman moaning and put it in the track. Like in Rocket Queen.”

Grant drops a pretzel. “You’re a fuckin’ genius!” He tries to clap Gareth on the back but misses, sending the two into a fit of giggles. 

“Yeah, a genius.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Except for the fact that we’re not exactly drowning in moaning women.” He stretches, exposing a sliver of torso. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re all still virgins. The handy that Jeff got behind the Hideout doesn’t count.”

Jeff elbows him, but Eddie’s too high to notice. “Maybe we don’t need women,” Jeff muses. “Ed, you still got that tape recorder?”

Eddie’s brows shoot up. “Yeah. Somewhere around here.” He digs around under his bed until he finds it, blowing off the dust. 

Jeff presses the PLAY and RECORD buttons in unison. The cassette’s wheels spin. “Check, one, two,” he mumbles into the mic. 

And then he lets out one long, shrill moan. 

“What the fuck,” Gareth guffaws, “was that?”

Eddie yanks the recorder away from Jeff. “Someone’s gonna think we’re torturing puppies and call animal control.”

“Seriously, dude. What porn are you watching?” Grant adds. He takes the recorder from Eddie. “It’s gotta be sexy. Like this.”

He holds the microphone close to his mouth, breathing out moans in short bursts. After ten seconds of that, he glances around the room to gauge everyone’s reactions. 

“Well…” Eddie starts, taking another hit, “that was…less bad than Jeff’s.”

A triumphant grin stretches across Grant’s face. Eddie’s too stoned to elaborate that their other guitarist had set the bar in hell. 

Instead, he turns his attention to the drummer. “Gare? You willing to give it a shot?”

Grant snickers. “Should be easy for him considering he’s barely hit puberty.”

“That’s not what your mom said last night,” Gareth shoots back. Grabbing the mic, he lets out a series of what sound like pained yelps. 

Eddie scrambles for the tape recorder. “So that’s gonna be a hard pass from me,” he says with obviously feigned kindness, “but we’ll keep you in mind if we ever need an impression of someone being electrocuted.”

“Whatever.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you give it a try, Sex God?”

“Just because he’s gotten laid doesn’t mean he’s made her moan,” Jeff points out, earning a high-five from Grant. 

Eddie flips them off. “Fuck all of you. I’ll have you know I’m a goddamn giver.” 

He double-checks that the cassette wheels are spinning, then indulges the guys in the most realistic moaning they’ve ever heard outside of Family Video’s adult section. 

“Oh my god! H-oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Boy, what the hell are you doing?”

Wayne Munson stands in the trailer’s entrance carrying two brown paper bags filled with groceries. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn bright red, sobriety infiltrating his brain. Long gone is his hazy high. “N-Nothing.” He drops the microphone. “Just messing around.”

“Sounds like a goddamn brothel in here,” Wayne grumbles, shoving Chef Boyardee cans into the pantry. 

“Wait.” Eddie forces himself to look at his uncle. “Like, did it actually sound good? Did I sound like a woman moaning?”

Wayne studies him with a look of sheer disappointment and disbelief. “I’m gonna go out to the truck and get the last bag,” he says slowly, “and when I come back, I want these numbskulls gone, and I want you to never ask me something like that again.”

“Got it.” Eddie nods, but the second Wayne leaves, he turns to his bandmates. 

“Looks like we have a winner, boys.”

--

[okdeannawrites]

From the prompt list:

unconsciously including them in conversation when they're not even around

millinerswings asked:

From the prompt list:

unconsciously including them in conversation when they’re not even around

Author’s note: This ask didn’t state they wanted Sterek for the prompt fill, but that is who I write the most now, so I hope it’s okay that I wrote this with them in mind.

WHEN YOU’RE NOT AROUND

“Derek’s favorite color is amber,” Stiles asserted, shoving another couple of fries into his mouth. “Can you believe that? Amber, and not even yellow and orange amber. But like a brown amber, which is beyond ridiculous.  I mean—”

Glancing up from his now-empty carton, he’s met with several stares, ranging in tones of confusion to horror to… wait, is that suspicion in Lydia’s eyes. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

Scott cleared his throat. “Derek isn’t here, Stiles. Why do you keep bringing him up in conversation with us all the time?”

Stiles blinked. Then blinked again. “Were we not talking about favorite colors just now?”

“No, we were, but… what does Derek have to do with that? He isn’t even in Beacon Hills anymore, and how do you even know his favorite color? When did you guys even discuss it?”

Stiles frowned. He didn’t bring Derek up in conversation all the time. Hell, he barely even talked about the guy at all when they weren’t actively running for their lives because of him—or rather someone determined to kill him.

“It came up once,” Stiles said, waving his hand about. “And what’s the big deal? It was just a conversational anecdote. I thought that’s what we were doing. Talking. Conversing. Getting to know each other better.”

“We were. We just fail to see how us getting to know each other better includes anecdotes about a man who isn’t currently sitting here or in town,” Lydia paused, then added, “or even the country.”

Stiles froze. She made it sound like he— That he—

He swallowed, and pointed his finger at her, “That is not what this is. I just added to the conversation. That’s it.”

“Right. Because Scott, Malia, and I want to know about Derek’s favorite color.”

“And Derek’s favorite soda to drink,” Malia included, furrowing her brow.

And Derek’s favorite ice cream flavor,” Scott said, eyeing him with some kind of growing sense of… understanding? “Dude. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Stiles glared at him—at all of them. “What are you guys even talking about right now? I mentioned him three times. So what? He’s our friend, right? Or he was our friend. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s complicated, but he was here, right? We all know him.”

“Yes, but none of us as well as you do, it seems.”

Tipping her head sideways, Lydia met his gaze and asked, “Why is that, Stiles? I would think, out of everyone, you would know Scott, me, or Malia the best, and yet, when asked to name something we know about each other, you mentioned Derek. Not once. Not twice. Not even three times, but eight, Stiles. You mentioned him eight times, and I know it was eight because I started counting at the first one.”

Fuck his life.

Why did she pick now to be so damn observant of him? And why the hell hadn’t he realized he was talking about Derek too much? Was his focus so shot that he didn’t even know he spoke about the guy aloud anymore?

Shaking his head, Stiles looked at his friends and sighed. “Alright, you’ve made your point. Now forget about it and let’s move on.”

“Sure,” Scott said, eyeing him thoughtfully, “but what is Derek’s favorite song?”

Stiles groaned and tossed his empty fry carton across the table at him. “Knock it off and hand me your leftovers. I’m still hungry and someone—” looks pointedly at Malia— “ate half my burger.”

“If you hadn’t been talking about Derek so much, you would have eaten all your food before I could steal any of it.”

She wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t make her right to call him out about it. “You three suck,” he said, reaching out to take the second burger Scott had yet to touch. “And to think I actually call you guys my friends.”

“We are your friends. We’re just surprised to discover we’re also competing with an older werewolf for the title.” And with that Lydia glanced down at the phone in her hand, leaving no doubt that the conversion—and the teasing—was now over.

Thank God. He didn’t know what he would do if they kept going with it. It was bad enough he’d have to think about it when he went home tonight, and every night in the foreseeable future, too.

All because a fucking werewolf he didn’t hate split his damn focus.

Didn’t that just figure?

Continue to part 2