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withoutyouimsaskia · 11 months ago

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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 1)

GIF: Originally posted by @tavners

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Home invasion. Voyeurism. Implied masturbation. Dream manipulation.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Wow, this took way longer to finish than I had originally planned. My head's been all over the place with trying (and thus far failing) to find a new job. The themes are very different to what I've written before; I hope it reads okay. Please let me know what you think. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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Fate.

A phenomenon that governed every particle of matter within the known universe and even those beyond.

Some considered it a comforting concept that excused them from the burden of decision making, citing: "I'll leave it up to fate." For others the phrase was a cursory, throw-away comment or a romantic line they heard in the lyrics of a song.

The real truth of the matter was that Fate was a trio of immortal beings, goddesses, with sight so potent that they knew the past, present and future of every individual to have lived. The mythology of the Greeks, Romans and Norse hadn't been too far off with their stories of the Moirai, Parcae and Norns but of course, no humans really believed there to be any realism in myths. They were just stories. It didn't matter either way; they existed and had influence regardless of what the majority believed.

For beings such as The Endless siblings, the presence of Fate in the cosmos was not only real, but also something that affected even themselves.

For the King of Dreams, an eventuality had been prophesised long ago by The Kindly Ones that spoke of a bond that was to be forged between himself and a mortal.

Lord Morpheus, in his pride, had tried to be above such a foretelling, even questioning its validity because the notion of a mortal accepting his version of the universe seemed wholly implausible.

But he could not truly stop himself from wondering about you, reaching out to see if he could feel your presence in the minds of the dreamers he hosted.

It wasn't something he indulged in with frequency. More of a once-in a-decade interval. Enough to appease his curiosity.

Of course, this was put on hold during his imprisonment at Fawney Rig.

Morpheus had had much to contemplate during this period. The damage his absence caused to the collective subconscious, the decay of his realm, the loss of freedom and dignity. There was also a chance that you had been born and died in the 106 years he spent in captivity.

What if he was too late and had lost the chance of discovering who you were?

It was a nauseating prospect that scraped and scratched a space deep within his being; bleeding him of his remaining stores of hope that were so significantly depleted after the death of beloved Jessamy.

Despite the nasty emotional wound, finding you was a charge that he assigned at the end of his priorities after his escape.

Recovering his scattered tools, restoring the Dreaming, locating his absent creations, unravelling the mystery of Rose Walker and confronting Desire all had needed to come first.

The latter interaction had left Morpheus with a seething rage that was currently propelling him down the boards of the dock that sit above the Ocean of Dreams.

The dense mist in the air is buffeted by his movements and the only sounds are the tread of boots, the creak of wooden slats and the lap of water.

With each step, the liquid becomes choppier as it reacts to its master's mood and by the time he has reached the end of the dock, the surface of the water roils fervorously, completely in line with Morpheus' dangerous temperament.

The words of Desire's final silken-toned taunt echo in his mind with grating persistence.

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn't I?"

He is loathe to admit there is truth in the question.

There are moments where Morpheus ponders the turn that the relationship between them has taken. How Desire went from being his favourite sibling to someone one shade shy of an adversary. Their faultless adeptness at provoking his temper and manipulating the events that encircle him would be impressive if not for the danger posed to humanity.

The agitated water eventually draws focus to how out of control he and his emotions have become. Morpheus knows he must get them in check, and quickly, for he knows the consequences all too well should he ignore it.

He clenches his fist and swallows it all down, pushing it deep inside his belly until the crackling entropy of the anger is fully dispelled.

Morpheus then sweeps his coat out behind him as he sinks lithely into a crouch. Trepidation nips at his heart and tugs his attention to a sobering thought.

This foray into the water may be fruitless.

You may be long gone and there would be no way of ever knowing you.

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath; he has run out of excuses to not look, even if he is afraid of the outcome.

Long, delicate fingers dapple the surface of the inky ocean. The waves still at the touch, obedient to him with instancy.

He repositions to full height and reaches into his coat to find the pouch of sand stashed in the pocket. A handful of twinkling grains slip off his palm into the ocean, lighting the water it touches to a luminous green.

"Find my soulmate," Morpheus commands silently.

The intention is set. He steps off the dock into the water.

At first, like every other prior attempt, there is no sign of you. Morpheus floats submerged in the tepid liquid, filtering through the hubbub of countless other dreams and nightmares.

Then there is a pull.

It is faint yet indisputable. Warmth explodes in his chest and he groans inwardly from the delicious sensation of relief.

You are alive, and you are dreaming.

A path of radiance appears in the water, a line that shows your connection, and provides a location for him to hone in on.

Morpheus dives deeper without hesitation.

As he reaches the edge of your subconscious, he rejoices that he got a handle on his emotions. He wouldn't want your first perception of him to be one tinged with rage, however unaware you were of him, with your soulmate being the source.

He hesitates for a moment before entering the dream you are in and is somewhat taken aback by what he finds.

A room comprising of four blank walls, a floor, a ceiling and a door. There is but one other feature; a window, and its view is as non-descript and inoffensive as the internal space.

You stand by said window, head turned from him.

Despite being unable to see your face, he sees your anxiety with immediacy. It is an aura hovering about your body, being sucked into your lungs with every fast-paced breath.

You begin to throw glances towards the door. Morpheus filters through the layers of the dream. No one is scheduled to come across the threshold.

The more he observes, the more questions arise in Morpheus' mind.

What was making you so affected? What were you expecting to happen?

There's nothing in the scene that is intended to be unpleasant yet you are reacting in a way that most observers would characterise as unsettled.

Morpheus, despite not yet knowing you, doesn't like to see you this way. His dominant instinct is to end the dream but he quashes the desire to review the bigger picture.

The empty room dream was symbolic of a beginning.

It clicks into place.

What you were feeling, even if on a purely instinctual level, was the anticipation of meeting your soulmate and starting your new life.

Morpheus steps into the frame, just a couple of paces behind you.

You feel his presence instantly, eyes full to the brim with tears as you whirl around with a soft gasp.

You see him.

The tears spill and patter onto the white floor.

Morpheus reaches out, overcome by his need to provide comfort.

You disappear.

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Morpheus is sat on his throne. He pores over the book he had located in the Dreaming's library a little over a week ago that contains the details of your life. It is something he has taken to doing when the impatience of waiting for you to fall asleep becomes too keen.

Your subconscious has him enraptured, watching it every night as if it is a stage show. Each dream he delves into is like the tug of fingers on a loose thread, your psyche has begun to unravel before him.

Everything from whims to cravings, hopes to fears. Your temperament, the things that delight and irk you. What drives you and demotivates you. He consumes it all with an insatiable hunger.

Based on the projection of yourself that he sees, there is no doubt that he is attracted to you.

All that prior haughty disregard for the Fates' prophecy has been cast aside like a negative thought in a meditation session. Morpheus is a romantic. A believer. He is ashamed to have even doubted your coming.

He wonders if it would vex Desire to learn of him finding his soulmate and by extension, the prospect of companionship, perhaps even physical intimacy or love.

It is all too easy to imagine the sickly sweet grin they would smile at him, shown to be fake by the almost imperceptible contempt glinting in their golden eyes.

Would his triumph drive them to distraction?

It is this smug sentiment that spurs his next decision. He wants more. The next logical step is to find you in the waking world.

He rises from his throne, a sure hand ready to bring forth his pouch of sand when he falters.

Tears pool in his eyes.

His mind is suddenly marred with the memories of what happened in 1916. The agony, mortification and rage that followed. He couldn't go through that kind of treatment ever again and the waking world expanded the risk of it transpiring.

"No," he says resolutely. His sadness turns to resolve, the hard line of his grimace matching those set in his brows.

He will not let the actions of a group of mortals dissuade him from going to you. And besides, he has researched everything he can about you from within the safety of the Dreaming.

He takes a measure of sand and uses it to materialise within your bedroom.

It is obvious from a quick scan of it that deliberate attempts have been made to ensure the space is cosy and calming.

Two marshmallowy pillows support your head. The cotton sheets have been meticulously tucked to avoid drafts. A lavender reed diffuser fragrances the air with a subtle scent. There are no devices or screens visible.

Everything has its place. A coaster supported glass of water within reaching distance. Touch activated lamp in case of emergency. The diary lined up with the back left corner of the bedside table, pen placed parallel in the spine dent. All clothes are in the wardrobe or stashed in the laundry basket.

Morpheus moves to the curtain-shrouded window and delicately moves the dark, heavy fabric to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

The scene is sepia stained from an old streetlight positioned right outside your home. It explained the choice of curtains.

You stir slightly from the change in environment and Morpheus allows the curtain to fall back in place. He remains stationary until your breathing returns to its previous pace. It is imperative that his presence remains undisclosed. He knows that mortals do not take well to home invasion.

Then, your right hand slips out from the duvet cocoon revealing a cushion cut ruby ring on your middle finger.

He smiles exultantly. The similarity between the jewel and his own now-destroyed dreamstone was undeniable.

The Fates were making it transparent.

You were the one.

Morpheus approaches the side of your bed now. In your momentary discomfort, you had moved your head, making your whole face visible to your uninvited guest.

He bends gracefully so his face is closer to yours and observes you with an intent fascination.

Even in the gloom, Morpheus asserts that your features are even more captivating now that he is able to look upon them in person and is certain that if he could guarantee an absence of fear then he would fall to knees and worship you right there.

Fingers stroke a lock of hair splayed across the pillow and his thoughts turn darker still, imagining what he would do with you if he could get you alone in the Dreaming. How he would seduce you with words, and then pleasure your body with his own until you were senseless.

Getting you there would be so easy, all he needed to do was move his hand up and touch your skin and -

Morpheus stops himself, deciding that now is not the time for an introduction. He will wait until tomorrow. You need to rest. It will be quite the revelation for your sweet mortal heart.

Morpheus whispers a promise, "We will be together soon, my precious soulmate."

He leaves after taking one last look at your peaceful form.

When he returns to the Dreaming, Morpheus discovers that the visit has riled him way beyond what he thought possible.

It was supposed to sate his curiosity and answer some questions.

It has done the opposite.

His craving for you is sublimely intense, opiate-like in its ensnarement.

He needs to possess you. To have you all to himself. Everything would fall into place. Loneliness, disillusionment, jealousy; they would never darken his outlook again. You would heal him, he is certain of it.

He paces restlessly in the low light of his private chambers as heat ripples beneath the surface of his being, charging him with pure sexual lust.

He hungers for the moment when you feel the same about him.

For now, all he can do is stand and touch himself while thinking of your face, an act that has been carried out repeatedly in the days since he found you in the Ocean of Dreams.

An erotic idea enters his mind.

Your subconscious is still in the Dreaming; he knows the feeling of it intimately.

Perhaps he could bring you a dream mirroring his own current fantasy.

To give you a taste of what was to come.

A gift that only he could bestow.

The mere thought of it turns him on even more. His back arches and his eyes roll back as he choses the words through which he would deliver the offering.

"Dream of me," Morpheus murmurs breathlessly. "Dream of me."

He repeats the phrase until he is unable to continue, moans taking over the darkened space around him.

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It is dusk the next day when Morpheus returns to the waking world.

The instant he touches down on the Earth's surface, he knows exactly where to go. The metaphysical connection between you is as strong as the energy pulsing through a ley line.

The city he is directed to is thrumming with life but the side street he stands in has been spared from the furore.

It is fortuitous that he is permitted to be unobserved for Morpheus is struggling now with the urge to get closer.

Providence is pulling him in and also locking him out.

He walks up to the door and then an invisible force makes him back away.

He doesn't even try to fight it.

The Fates hold all the cards. Morpheus is beholden to their each and every whim.

It is surprisingly liberating.

He is dancing in the cross hairs. Blinkered by the tie the universe has fashioned for you.

All he has to do is wait.

The door to the building is pushed open.

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Taglist: @herfantasyworldd

"Fate. Up against your will. Through the thick and thin. He will wait until you give yourself to him."

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kpop · 9 months ago

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K-Pop Spotlight: DAY6

Come one, come all to a K-Pop Spotlight that is sure to dazzle and delight ’til the final curtain. This week, all eyes are on DAY6 following the release of their eighth mini-album, Fourever, and brand new title track, "Welcome to the Show." We caught up with the band to discuss their goals as they approach their 10th anniversary and their ever-growing connection to their fans through their music. Check out our full interview below!

Tracks like “Welcome to the Show,” “The Power of Love,” and “Get The Hell Out” seem to have very different themes. Can you tell us a little about how these songs relate to each other and what aspects make this album cohesive?

SUNGJIN: As we pursue the idea of being a 'band that sings every moment,' it seems like our albums, including the recent one, prioritize diversity in songs and situations rather than unity. Consequently, our albums contain various genres and narratives. However, there seems to be a commonality in most songs, depicting situations that everyone has either gone through or might experience.

Young K: First and foremost, I would say this album is a compilation of the best songs we could create. There's definitely a theme of love running through it. "Welcome to the Show," "The Power of Love," and "Get The Hell Out" all talk about the concept of love.

What goes into creating titles for DAY6 songs and albums, especially those that don’t come directly from your lyrics? Do you find it hard to condense the intentions and themes of a song into a title?

Young K: While there have been cases like that, all the songs on this album came from the lyrics. Sometimes, when choosing a title, we select the one that best describes the song—other times, we choose to give it a twist or make it more intriguing.

WONPIL: Naming songs involves a lot of deliberation. We often contemplate which title will catch the eye and capture the song's essence. Usually, we try to take it from a verse in the chorus. This can be a challenging part of the songwriting process.

Is there a creative project you’ve always wanted to work on but haven’t gotten the chance/found the time?

SUNGJIN: I'm very curious, and have a principle of "trying to experience as much as possible." There are so many things I want to try musically and personally, especially among the things I know but haven't tried yet.

DOWOON: I hope we can have a song that we can collaborate on with My Day, like a choir.

What does your work/studio setup look like? Where do you feel the most creatively inspired?

DOWOON: We try to keep the studio as tidy as possible and make it comfortable for practice sessions.

WONPIL: When working on songs, we talk a lot. We get inspiration from little conversations, joking around, sharing stories, and listening to music from various eras regardless of genre while giving opinions. We also try to build emotional connections with the songs. There’s a lot of communication going on. The songwriting process takes place in the studio of our long-time collaborator, composer Hong Jisang, with whom we've been working together since our debut.

How do you want to evolve as a musician/producer?

Young K: I want to be eagerly anticipated and awaited as an artist. Without those who wait for us, we wouldn't release or even step onto the stage. So I’m always thankful for My Day.

WONPIL: My biggest goal is to make good music for My Day and the public, so I think I'll continue to ponder. When working on songs, I pour my sincerity into them. I constantly strive to express this sincerity musically, fully capturing the emotions I want to convey. I hope to create songs that can still be listened to even after 10 or 20 years.

Design your own Tumblr blog: choose an aesthetic, a blog name, and would you be a frequent poster or lurker?

SUNGJIN: I think I’ll use it to catch up on friends' updates. For the blog name, THUMB BLUR sounds good to me. I might end up being a lurker who never posts.

DOWOON: Maybe a blog for plants? I think I'll post it like a diary.

Want more DAY6? Check out their new mini album Fourever and the music video for the title track “Welcome to the Show,” both out now!

#day6 #day6 kpop spotlight #kpop spotlight

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its-time-to-write · 2 years ago

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hi! Could you please write something with like reader opening the door one day when Roy stars knocking for training but reader and Jamie aren’t open about their relationship yet? I think it would be cute xx

I also thought this was cute. Not sure if anyone notices/cares, but all my titles are song lyrics based ever so loosely on the vibe I am trying to convey. Thanks for another great request!

what it is

Someone’s aggressively knocking on the door and as you roll over to check the time. It’s 4am, and you poke Jamie who is fast asleep beside you.

“Babe,” you whisper, “someone’s at the door.”

Jamie groans and mumbles something incoherent. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell something’s off. You reach out your hand and feel his forehead. It’s burning up.

The knocking continues and Jamie lets out another groan and says something that sounds like raining? Oh. Training. You remember he trains every morning at 4, but you’ve never seen who he goes with. He just kisses you in your sleep and is back right as you wake up for the day.

You roll out of bed, grab one his sweatshirts from the floor, and pad downstairs to the door.

You swing open the door mid-knock. The man on the other side lowers his fist, looks at you all squinty for a moment, then says, “Who the fuck’re you?”

You return the look. “I live here. Who the fuck are you?”

The man scoffs. “No, you fucking don’t. This is Jamie Tartt’s house. Jesus fucking Christ, is he fucking blowing off training because of a fucking one-night stand?”

Oh. You know who this is. This is Roy Kent. You didn’t know he was the one training Jamie, but you guess it makes sense based on how much Jamie talks about him. It’s Roy Kent this, and Roy Kent that, and Roy says I need to eat more protein, and Roy said my hair looked funny today, does it look funny to you?

You sigh. You and Jamie have been together for three months, and you basically live at his house. You’re really only at your flat to change clothes. You have a toothbrush, pajamas, and half a wardrobe at Jamie’s. Your books have started to make their way onto his shelves too, as you read them and then leave them for him to start. That was a little bit of an accident at first, after you left This Side of Paradise one night and came back to a different bookmark on page 34.

Anyway, Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re dating Jamie, or that anyone is. You suppose in his mind, Jamie is happily single, fucking around like the twenty-something year old footballer he is.

Roy is still looking at you expectantly, so say, “I do live here. Why don’t you come in?” and hold open the door a bit wider.

Roy’s face says fuck it, and he follows you inside to the kitchen.

“Can I get you some tea?” you ask quietly, although Jamie can sleep through anything.

Roy seems surprised by the question, but says, “Yeah, sure,” as he stands by the kitchen island.

“Jamie’s sick,” you say. “He’s still asleep upstairs. I doubt he’ll be up for training today.”

“Right, yeah,” says Roy, “I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? Jamie’s not fucking supposed to be doing the whole one-night stand thing, he told me it’s too fucking distracting from training.”

You chuckle. “That’s comedy gold right there. Yeah, no, I’m not a one-night stand. I’m his girlfriend.”

Roy’s impressive eyebrows lift in shock, and you laugh again and give him your name. “Didn’t know I existed, did you? I’m not one for crowds or a big fuss. I told Jamie if we made it four months than he could start telling people. He was a little upset, but,” you shrug, “no point in making it a big deal if we just break up, right?”

You can practically see the wheels turning in Roy’s brain as he does the math.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking dating this little prick for three fucking months, and he hasn’t fucking said anything?”

You nod.

“Fuckkk,” Roy whispers, “that makes so much fucking sense.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“He’s been less of a prick recently,” Roy explains, “More considerate, been carrying around fucking books and shit. Not fucking flirting with everything that fucking moves. Thought maybe he was just taking beating Zava too fucking seriously.”

You nod and move to pour the tea. You and Roy both turn as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Jamie, who is wearing a headlamp, pajama shirt, athletic vest, and a single sock. And, thank God, pants.

“Ready for training coach,” he says with a salute, but the action almost makes him fall over. He looks all pale and sweaty, with bags under his eyes.

“Told you he was sick,” you say.

“Fuckin’ hell,” is all Roy can come up with.

Jamie seems to notice you for the first time and breaks out into a smile. “Roy! Look! I have a girlfriend,” he says, words a little slurred while pointing to you.

It’s punctuated by a “Jesus Christ,” from Roy as Jamie wobbles, unsteady on his feet from his fever.

“Alright, mister,” you say. “Back to bed.”

Jamie frowns. “Always so mean,” he says. He does an imitation of your voice, “No Jamie, you can’t tell Roy about us. Yes Jamie, I know Roy’s your best friend. No Jamie, I don’t think you love Roy more than me.” He looks at Roy as you sling his arm around your shoulders, supporting him at his waist. He puts his fingertips on your lips as he says, “See what I have to put up with?”

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as Roy says, “What you have to put up with?”

Jamie is so loopy right now. He lays his head on yours and smiles again. “Look at this. Me two favorite people, finally meeting. You should stay for dinner, coach.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh as you both mutually decide not to point out that it is now 4:30am and dinner is a long, long way away.

“Let’s go get you out of those clothes and into bed,” you say as you start to lead him back to your room.

Jamie casts a look back at Roy and wiggles his eyebrows. “Babe, you can’t just say things like that in front of granddad. Might give him a heart attack. Old people are such prudes.”

“Go to sleep, Tartt,” Roy says. He looks at you and says softly, “I can see myself out.”

You smile and wave with your free hand. “It was nice to meet you,” you say. “Hopefully we can meet again under more normal circumstances.”

Roy nods once and does what you think is a smile? He turns and heads out the door as you maneuver Jamie upstairs. Jamie Tartt has a girlfriend. And a good one at that. What is the world coming to?

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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cacoetheswriting · 11 months ago

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honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre.

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours.

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets.

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story.

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in.

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.”

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing.

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly.

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw.

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well.

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open.

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap.

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length.

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.”

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh.

“Please, Eddie.”

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

#this one is a little self indulgent ngl #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #celebrity skin.

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spideysbruh · 1 year ago

Text

karma

summary- yn and shawn mendes break up. things get a little messy. timothee comes into the picture.

a/n- i can make shawn mendes a lil mean in this idc idc!!! also, ~~~ means time has passed

@popbase tweeted-

BREAKING NEWS: Actress Y/N L/N and popstar Shawn Mendes have officially broken up after three years together.

@ynsperfectlywrong replied- WHAT NOOOO💔💔💔💔 MY PARENTS

@sabrinasyn replied to @ynsperfectltwrong- guess your @ is real now...

@spideysyn replied- TOO SOON 😭💔💔

@ynscinderella replied- you can tell they've been broken up for a while bc they used to alwayssss post each other and then it just Stopped.

@yngoddess replied- I wonder why... he did seem a little off towards the end

@whenyoureyn replied to @yngoddess- you don't know them.

@rodrigoyn replied- he's been detached from everything recently. she can only help him so much. I hope he gets better.

@lauriesrings replied to @rodrigoyn- fr maybe he'll write an album about it LMAO

liked by melissabarrera, tchalamet, madisonbeer and 2,887,398 others

y/n alexa, play dangerous by madison beer

view all 43,826 comments

ynssocks OOOOF

madisonbeer great song 👍

y/n liked

ynstan MAKE HIM REGRET IT

chalshalamet has timmy always liked her posts ???

spideyyn bro's making a move 💀💀

shawnsyn that song though.... what did he to our girl😭😭😭

@celebritynews tweeted-

Shawn Mendes has recently spoken up about his and y/n l/n's breakup in a recent interview. "we were both just really wrong for eachother. towards the end, i felt like we were just completely different people. It wasn't like my previous relationships, it was almost suffocating."

He continued to say that the relationship was a great "learning experience", but still mentions his ex. "Our relationship was, for the most part, amazing, at the time it was a breath of fresh air. But it just wasn't how I imagined and previously experienced."

There are no comments yet from y/n on this.

@ynsgoldfish replied- oh so he's still in love w his ex.... and was constantly comparing the two girls and the two different relationships?? okay. got it. fuck this guy lol

@chappellyn replied- bro he's still obsessed with his ex im dead. didn't they date for like. one year barely 💀💀

@midnightyn replied- it wasn't like he "previously experienced" ummm maybe that's a good thing??? he's so fucking stupid.

@sunriseyn replied- remember when she had made a silly little tiktok about how she thought taron egerton was rly cute in Kingsman and Shawn then posted a video of him singing some sad song and also another tiktok showing how jealous he was LMAOOO sore loser. he doesn't know how good he had it with her.

@girlyyn replied to @sunriseyn- this^^^ like there were soooo many red flags w him but we were all just so in love w the idea of the relationship nobody saw it coming fr

@y/n tweeted-

my kink is karma

~~~

@popbase tweeted-

Shawn Mendes has just announced a new single! Releasing at the end of the month, titled 'Miss You More Than Anything'

@ynsgf replied- sooo embarrassing 💀💀

@fiveyn replied- bro realized too late LMAOOO sucks for him.

@chalametyns replied- it'd be sooooo funny if it was bad 💀

@bluecurtains replied- oh it will be 💀

liked by tchalamet, florencepugh, dovecameron and 2,236,366 others

y/n feeling like a feather

view all 67,282 comments

sabsyn WITH YOU OUT MY LIFE 🗣🗣🗣

ynsbabe her post breakup journey has been so beautiful to watch tbh. I hope she finds someone who loves her fully

beachyyn 'post-breakup' it's been like almost a year already

tchalamet pretty

y/n 🫶💕

blankieyn UMMMM ??!?!!!

laurieslaurence wait- WAITTTTT

loveryn rue, when was this??

~~~

@popnews tweeted-

'Miss You More Than Anything' by Shawn Mendes has been out for several months, and is still the singers lowest grossing song ever.

@sabrinayn replied- the shadeeee 💀💀

@pinkyn replied- FOR Y/N UNITED WE STAND

@thankfulyn replied- I listened and... it's definitely a song with lyrics and a beat 😁

@warmyn replied- he'll never be loved by the masses again, it's crazy. almost sad... almost

@cineyn replied- "still" is so funny I cant

@timotheeyn replied- that's why she's with timothee now 💀

@sunnyyn replied to @timotheeyn- wait, it's confirmed?!???

@timotheeyn replied- not by them, but it's pretty obvious LMAO

tchalamet just posted a story!

@y/n tweeted-

not a lot going on at the moment, but life is good 🙏🏼🙏🏼

@ynsgirlfriend replied- you're so funny girl I love you

@y/n replied- why am I funny? im just vibing fr

@ynsautumn replied- she's living her best life fr

liked by tchalamet, shawnmendes, sabrinacarpenter and 3,287,272

y/n come with me... and you'll see...

view all 198,937 comments

lauriesrings THE WONKA REFERENCEEEE

rachelzegler literally the prettiest girl ever

y/n liked

y/n I literally love you so much.

ynsdinonuggets shawn liking is crazy 💀 SHE DONT WANT YOUU 🗣🗣🗣

piercetheyn imagine fumbling y/n 💀💀..... @shawnmendes IMAGINE 💀💀💀

tchalamet a worlddd of pure imagination !!!!

y/n omg youre my favorite actor hmu 😍

florencepugh so beautiful I miss you!!!

y/n liked

liked by y/n, francesa.scorsese and 4,847,727 others

tchalamet one year with you is crazy. best year of my life. you're the sunlight on my darkest days and just what I need on the good ones. you are everything I've ever wanted in one person and even more than I ever imagined. I miss you even when I'm right beside you, but especially when I'm not. I Love you, Y/n L/n.

view all 322,727 comments

laurieslaurence BROOOOOO

y/n im crying in this panda express omg

tchalamet liked

y/n you make me feel so special and so so loved. happy one year, timmy 🩷

tchalamet you are loved. happy one year, my love

alessiacara yall are too cute omg

ynscurtains BRO ONE YEARRRRR !?!!

kylesballs ellos son mis padres 😁

y/n just posted a story!

caption- 💕💕

liked by madisonbeer, tchalamet and 3,186,616 others

y/n I love you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me. you came during a confusing, heartbreaking, tumultuous time in my life that I was sure I would never get through. but I did and you were my reward. god, what a reward. I am forever grateful for you and everything you've taught me, and are continuing to teach me. happy one year my beautiful Man.

view all 122,282 comments

ynsmotivation okay I may be delusional but 'Man' being capitalized... maybe cause shawn was, and still is, acting like a boy LMAOOO

tchalamet I love you my pretty, talented, inspiring, strong, beautiful girl.

liked by y/n

harpyn and NOTHING for shawn 🤭🤭 funny how things work out.

rachelzegler we gotta have a double date soon!!

liked by y/n

#timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet smau #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet instagram au

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yridenergyridenergy · 8 months ago

Text

Dir en grey interview translation notes around The Devil In Me

Just some of the more interesting bits from the single's booklet and from PHY vol. 25.

Kyo

He was the one who came up with the title, and the title was determined before they even attached a song to it. The band basically decided to set a date for a new single ahead of time, not too long after 19990120's release, then they had just one song selection meeting (usually, they have three) to pick a song to work with toward becoming "The Devil In Me". After scheduling a release date, they had to pick a title before even knowing what song would be part of that release for production/logistical reasons.

Kyo wrote the lyrics of The Devil In Me based on his sense of dissociation from world events, how his own issues are not aligned with what the world cares about. He finds that people's lives are sometimes pre-determined the moment they are born. It's really a reflection on: "Why am I the way I am?"

The chorus has so many layers because Kyo wanted to illustrate that inner evil, or wickedness.

While re-recording Yokan, Kyo realized that he used to sing in short bouts, taking a breath more regularly, whereas he's evolved to sing as much as he can in a single, long breath now.

The small changes made to the lyrics of Cage just serve to help Kyo feel more immersed in that old poem, but if he'd wanted to change the lyrics to represent his current mindset, clearly he would have composed a completely new, different song.

Kyo commented in PHY vol. 25 that if the producers wanted a band that sells a lot, they would have had to replace him with someone who is taller, has a nice face and that composes songs that appeal to a wider audience. But around their debut, Kyo had to bend to some of the producers' demands because he had to rely on their knowledge of what would make the band successful. He wanted to make a very dark band, but he had to accept to make songs like Yokan.

"It wouldn't be appropriate to sing about corpses and internal organs to a melodious song such as Yokan (lol)."

Kyo feels like Dir en grey is the toughest band for him to be a part of, because the band's shows are especially mentally difficult.

Kaoru

The music of The Devil In Me was Kaoru's idea.

Kaoru agrees that the song kind of ends in a way that the band could have, in the past, followed up on with a second section of the song, but they felt like ending it in a more simple way now, which still represents the band's current state.

Die

The band had a discussion in a dressing room during Tour23 Phalaris Final –The scent of a peaceful death- and that's where they came to an understanding of where they wanted to take the band next. Kyo brought them ideas on what he felt that the next single song should sound like, but in the end, at the selection meeting, the majority of the band chose a completely different song than the other of the 5 that Kyo preferred. He's fine with letting the majority win.

Die started working out in 2018 to make sure to stay in shape for stage performances, and I think that he mentioned that it's important for him to appear young and healthy so that the fans who follow the band also don't feel old.

For Die, he was in part less active on stage during the Dum Spiro Spero era because the songs were dark and complex, so he had to focus more. Because of that, he couldn't enjoy the actual shows as much.

Toshiya

Toshiya mentioned that doing commemorative tours and shows is really just fan service.

Toshiya described Dir en grey as a group of five dictators. Their enemies and friends/allies are all inside that group, and the past 25(+) years have been a continuation of challenges to bring the band forward despite this type of chemical reaction between five egos.

Apparently the band never has casual "weird" conversations where they chat about their interests of the moment, but they quietly observe the others without interacting, like by observing what kind of clothes they wear or are into.

Shinya

Contrary to the band's habit, the vocals did not even exist yet when Shinya had to compose and record his drumming for The Devil In Me. When the vocals were eventually recorded, they kind of matched what Shinya had expected.

However, overall, a couple of members of the band feel like The Devil In Me might be a song that people react to with: "I don't get it", rather that just liking or disliking it.

Shinya dissing The Marrow of a Bone again hahah.

Shinya described The Devil In Me as mysterious, inexplicable.

He started taking some lessons from Buck-Tick's "Anii" (Toll Yagami) to learn a new drumming method. In the past, at the very beginning of his career, Shinya used to wear lead weights at his ankles to hit the pedal heavier and develop muscles, but Yoshiki and other seniors told him how to actually play and he quickly got rid of the weight belts.

#Dir en grey #The Devil In Me #magazine #interview #cage #yokan #25th anniversary

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senditcolton · 1 month ago

Text

So Tragic and Rare

"Taste Your Silhouette" (pt. 11)

a/n: the first full fic of this universe! and I can reveal to you all that every fic is going to be told from Andrei's POV. I grew attached to the idea that you don't really know who Keely is and are forced to learn about her through outsider observations/opinions, her interactions with Andrei, and of course, her music and lyrics. anyway, here's the story of their first meeting!! It's wild, it's a bit messy, but it also is a whole lot of fun - if I do say so myself.

word count: 9.9k warnings: Andrei being awkwardly endearing, me basically rewriting last seasons All-Star game and smut! [oral (f receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, and a handjob]. previous part 🧡 next part masterlist

There were many things an NHL player could do over All-Star Break. A majority of players chose to fly to a tropical location, enjoying the warmth and sunshine in the middle of February and take a moment to relax before the season kicked up again.

But not Andrei Svechnikov. At least, not this year.

Instead, he was sitting on one of the many benches lined up in the middle of Scotiabank Arena in Toronto, watching the lights flash around him, listening to the crowd milling about in the stands. While he awaits the start of the NHL All-Star Draft, clad in his Canes jersey, his feet kicking gently.

Let it not be confused that he was ungrateful. Sure, it was colder in Toronto than it was in Raliegh and definitely colder than it was in any of the numerous beaches he was sure his teammates were currently on. But, no matter how much of him wished he could join them in their vacation, he took pride in representing Carolina at the All-Star Game. And he wouldn’t deny that the title of All-Star sent a bolt of cocky confidence through his body.

So, yes, while he was sitting in rink-side instead of poolside, he had never been happier. This was his place. This was where he belonged.

The amplified music cuts through his reverie, his gaze now moving towards the stage where the hosts of the evening stood. He listens to their welcomes and the explanation of how the draft would work, before the music build and the introductions of team captains begin.

The music shifts with each introduction and after Team Matthews is announced, the sound of a recognizable bassline pricks at his ears. He knew the melody from practice, the song often pulsating through the locker room speakers thanks to Seth Jarvis. The hosts call the names of captain Nathan MacKinnon and assistant captain Cale Makar – names that deserve their own cheer – but all he can focus on is the dark blonde hair of the other person walking up to the podium next to them.

“And the celebrity captain: Boston singer and songwriter, you’ll see her as our headline performer on Saturday, give it up for Keely Halloran!”

The cheers flow through the stadium – not as many as Toronto-based Justin Bieber received but that was to be expected. Andrei swears that he hears some boos as well, his eyebrows furrowing at the sound. He remembered Jarvy mentioning some prior drama in her career, back when he info-dumped about his favorite artist one night over dinner, but it seemed ridiculous to Andrei that people would boo her for that.

Perhaps their vocal dislike was based off her being a Boston native and therefore probably a Bruins fan. That made more sense to him.

He redirects his gaze back to Keely, standing on the stage in her own yellow All-Star jersey, talking animatedly to Cale and Nathan.

She was really pretty.

Jarvy didn’t explicitly mention her looks that but Andrei should’ve known. Yes, Seth liked her music but it would be idiotic to think that there wasn’t some attraction woven into his admiration.

But she was really truly beautiful, the spotlight shining down on her. She seemed so at ease, under the lights, in front of the crowd, and Andrei supposes it came with the territory. She made her living on the stage and even though this was a much different circumstance than she was probably used to, it probably didn’t phase her at all.

The draft starts and Andrei can’t take his eyes off of Keely. There is a need flowing through him, a desperate desire to be on her team. Although, if asked, he wouldn’t be able to concisely say why.

It could’ve been the fact that her team was captained by Nathan MacKinnon and Cale Makar – two powerhouse players that anyone would be lucky to play with. It could’ve been because he promised Jarvy that he’d get a picture or autograph for him and being on Keely’s team would make that task easier to accomplish. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that he found her attractive.

Whatever the reason, he wanted to be hers. Her player – on her team, that is.

He watches as her, Nathan, and Cale look at their options, talking each pick over. He sees her disappointed face and hears a small sound of disappointment leave her lips when David Pastranak gets chosen by Team McDavid, confirming his assumption that she was a Boston fan. He listens to her voice, cheerfully greeting and shaking the hand of each player that skates up: Crosby, Georgiev, Kaprisov. All he can do is wait and hope for his name to be called – hopefully by her.

When Robert Thomas gets chosen by team McDavid, the host jumps back to Keely, ready to announce the next pick of Team MacKinnon.

“Alright Keely, your team is up. How much power do you have in these draft choices?”

“I’d like to think I have some but they’re the professionals so I’m trusting them,” Keely laughs, tossing her hair back. “We were looking at all the names here, and I’m going with the guys on this one. We’re going to select… Andrei Svechnikov.”

His name on her lips sounds like music to his ears and he lifts himself off the bench, skating over towards the third of the small podiums lining the stage. He can faintly hear the voice of the announcer praising his game but that all seems irrelevant to the sight of those blue eyes trained on him.

He skates up, first clapping Nathan on the back, before his eyes connect with Keely. She has that smile on her face, a camera-ready smile but one that also seemed entirely genuine.

“Hey,” she says to him, her voice still lifting with the edge of her laughter as she holds out her hand to him. He accepts it, shaking it gently before moving to Cale, taking the All-Star jersey from his hands.

It isn’t until he is settled down on the MacKinnon bench, lined up next to his new teammates, do his eyes return to Keely and notices her staring at him. And it is only then does he realize he never said a word, not even a hello, to her.

A strange feeling of embarrassment runs through him, his eyes darting down, pretending to be absorbed in unfolding the yellow jersey. God, she must’ve thought he was an asshole or something. What a great first impression. He throws the material over his head and only afterward does he allow himself to look back up towards the podium where Keely stood.

He continues to watch and listen to her aid in the building of Team MacKinnon. And every time she speaks, he notices more things about her, aspects the draw him in even deeper.

He noticed her playfulness when Jeremy Swayman was selected by Cale, laughing at the incredulous “alright?” that escaped Keely’s lips, clearly not agreeing with the defenseman’s choice of adjective concerning the goalie.

Andrei’s laughter soured quickly, feeling a small twinge of jealousy thrum through him when Jeremy skated over and shook Keely’s hand, the rockstar clearly overjoyed that he was selected. It was an odd thing to be jealous about, he realized, and he shook off the feeling, focusing back to the rest of the draft.

He noticed her welcoming warmth when she selected Elias Lindholm, newest member of the Boston Bruins, traded from Vancouver just before the All-Star game.

And when there were only four players left and each of the leadership teams came up onto the main stage, he listened intently when he heard her name fall from the mouth of one of the hosts.

“I wanted to talk to Keely Halloran for a moment here. You have a big performance coming up on Saturday. How do you feel?”

“I’m so excited,” she replies, her words and her smile seeming nothing short of genuine. “Growing up in Boston and growing up a Bruins fan – dangerous thing to admit in Toronto, I know, but – it really made me fall in love with hockey. My dad is coming in tomorrow and he’s just super excited.”

“Well, since you mentioned being a Bruins fan, are you happy you got a few Bruins on your team?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, kind of disappointed we didn’t get the full set with Pasta but I like the team we made up and I know that at least me, Jeremy, and Elias will bring some of that energy and power that I always feel in TD Garden.”

“Well, we’ll be feeling the energy and power during your performance on Saturday, I’m sure,” the host says, turning away without acknowledging the laughter and confirmation that falls from Keely’s lips.

The draft wraps up after the final selection, each team being filled. A cheer goes up from the crowd as the rosters are announced, followed by a reminder of the skills competition tomorrow and the All-Star game the day after that. After the final cheer, the bright lights of the stadium come back up, the production crews and behind the scenes personnel milling about. One of them stands in front of the Team MacKinnon bench, a quick explanation falling from their lips.

“Alright, guys, we’re gonna take a team photo for social media and then you are all free to go, sound good?”

Andrei nods his head, standing up to be positioned for picture. His eyes scan the stadium before landing on Keely again, slowly walking down the steps of the stage, trailing behind Cale and Nathan. He sees her slow shuffling across the ice, her eyes trained on her feet. A jolt of confidence plus a need to redeem himself from their first interaction runs through his body and without hesitation, he skates away from the team bench, towards her. With a small hiss of his skates, he pauses beside her, holding out his arm.

“Would you like help?” he asks. He can feel his heartbeat stutter in his chest when she looks up at him, her bright blue eyes connected with his brown ones.

“Is it that obvious that I’m not the strongest at walking on ice?” she laughs, still shuffling across the surface.

“It’s amazing you haven’t fallen yet,” Andrei replies. One of Keely’s eyebrows pops up and Andrei realizes that his words sounded more than a little patronizing. “I mean, in those shoes,” he elaborates, gesturing down to her heels, trying to mitigate whatever damage he may have inflicted.

“Yeah, not the smartest decision,” she replies. “I would love some help. Falling on my face wouldn’t be very good publicity for me.”

Andrei nods, relaxing in her easy-going attitude, re-extending his arm towards her. She takes it, her hand curling around his bicep. Andrei starts to slowly move back toward the group of yellow jerseys, attempting to keep a steady pace, focusing more on his skating in this moment than he had in ages.

The two of them reach the bench and Keely murmurs a soft thank you. His only reply is a nod, skating behind the seat and smiling for the camera. As soon as the photo is snapped, Andrei is ready to immediately return to Keely’s side, offering his help again. But he is beaten to it by the true Canadian gentleman Sidney Crosby.

With a sigh, he watches as she walks off with Sid and Nate before he skates over to the tunnel, ready to head back to the hotel. He still wasn’t sure if he was going to go down to the hotel bar or stay in his room, getting some necessary sleep before tomorrow. But his decision is made for him when he spies Keely glance back over her shoulder, locked gaze with him and sending a soft smile in his direction.

He would do anything if it meant that she would look at him that way again.

~*~*~*~

The hotel bar was crowded, filled with players, their significant others, and a few members of the media, eager to get every snippet of content they could.

Andrei knew it might have been best for him to stay upstairs, what with the skills competition coming up tomorrow – a competition that Andrei had a spot in. But it was the All-Star game and he was the only Carolina Hurricane here. He should represent his team as much as he could, in as many places as he could; let his face be seen and captured by the cameras around. He promised himself only a beer or two before leaving and he was making good on that promise. Although, he would admit that he was distracted looking for one person in particular.

It wasn’t until he was at the bar, ready to grab his second beer did his eyes finally locate the now familiar dark blonde hair of Keely Halloran.

She was sitting a few seats away from him, her back against the wooden bar-top as she talked with Nathan, Cale, Sidney, and Mitch Marner, her laughter bouncing through the air, cutting through the smooth jazz echoing through the speakers. She’s nursing some form of cocktail – Andrei can’t tell what – and intently listening as each person talks, seemingly interjecting with her own additions and obviously some humor considering the chuckles that fall from the men surrounding her.

He wanted go over there, join the conversation and insert himself into the circle, but a small part of him said to hold off. He didn’t want to overwhelm Keely with too many people, too many stories. She seemed connected to Nathan and Cale considering they were the two people that she had most likely interacted with the most. He didn’t want to force her to entertain an even larger group of almost complete strangers, which is exactly what he was.

Instead, he strikes up a casual conversation with the bartender, with every person that walks up next to him at the bar. He bides his time, his brown eyes occasionally darting over towards Keely, feeling his heartrate rise as the group surrounding her dwindles from four, to three, to two. And then she is alone.

Andrei takes a deep breath and another swig of his beer, willing whatever courage the amber liquid could provide to flow through his body, before picking up the bottle and walking over.

She is absorbed in her phone, texting someone, laughing gently at the words on the screen. The sight of her smile makes Andrei falter for a moment, the thought of her texting a boyfriend flashing in his brain. However, that voice is silenced when Keely looks up from her cell, her blue eyes connecting with his – seemingly aware of his presence – and the smile that was on her face does not fade. In fact, it seems to shine brighter.

That is the last bit of encouragement that Andrei needs to take those final steps, sliding his large body onto the adjacent chair and turning towards Keely.

“Hey again,” he says, his voice a little breathless and still a little uncertain.

“Ah, there’s my prince charming,” Keely smiles, looking up at him through her darkened eyelashes. The combination of her words and her stare has Andrei faltering once more, his own eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Prince charming?”

“For helping me across the ice, of course,” she lightly explains, her lips wrapping around the straw of her drink.

A light chuckle falls from Andrei’s lips as he tries to brush off his confusion, attempting to copy the bold and confident attitude that the woman sitting across from him displayed.

“Right, of course. Well, I guess Crosby – I mean, Sidney – would also be your prince charming.”

Keely hums, her head moving to glance behind her, towards Sidney, now talking with someone else a few paces away. Andrei takes Keely’s momentary distraction as an opportunity to let his gaze rake down.

With her head turned, he could see that the baseball cap perched backwards on her head was a Boston Celtics cap, her city loyalty on full display. The leather jacket that had previously been thrown over her shoulders was now draped over the back of the chair, revealing the rest of her all-black ensemble. The corset top that highlighted her chest and waist, a highlight that most other men would’ve been eyeing shamelessly. Andrei would’ve joined in but his eyes had drifted lower, to the skirt/short combo that seemingly had a built-in buckled garter, stretching across her upper thigh.

A gentle clearing of a throat causes Andrei’s eyes to snap back up, his face flushing when he sees Keely’s eyes glued back to him.

“He is gentleman, that’s for sure,” Keely speaks, continuing the prior conversation, blissfully not responding to Andrei’s blatant stare. That is, until her own eyes shamelessly rake up and down his body. “But Sid’s not nearly attractive enough to be my prince charming.”

While being caught red-handed threw him off-guard, Keely outright giving him some of the most seductive bedroom eyes that Andrei had seen in his life threw him entirely off-kilter.

“What?” he said, not being able to stop his bewilderment at – what seemed like – the sudden turn of events. Keely’s laughter makes his cheeks flush again, her leaning back in her chair, her legs stretching out causing Andrei’s eyes to dart back to that damnable garter.

“What’s the matter all-star? Never had a girl flirt with you?”

“N-no. I’ve had lots,” Andrei stutters out before his brain registers how bad his response sounded. “I-I mean… um…”

His fumbled words were once again cutoff with a gentle laugh from Keely, her body leaning towards him again. This time, her expression is soft, a slight smile on her face that looked amused but not at all condescending.

“You aren’t very good at this, are you?”

“Not when it’s a celebrity, like you. And not when I feel like I’ve made a mistake every time I’ve opened my mouth,” Andrei confesses, his own lips quirking in a soft grin.

“That’s actually one of the things I like,” Keely replies, silencing Andrei’s fears but bringing forth more confusion. The question is clearly painted on his face because Keely’s explanation continues. “Do you know how many men try to act all suave and basically lie through their teeth to get close to me? It’s nice to see something genuine – even if you may not have intended it.”

“Glad to know I haven’t messed up that bad.”

“Not at all.”

The initial awkwardness evaporates as fast as mist in the morning sun, the conversation between Keely and Andrei now flowing seamlessly. She asks about his life, details which he gladly offered up and he asks hers, the details she gave a little vaguer. But Andrei found that he didn’t really care.

He knew enough about who she was – a celebrity that probably had every aspect of her life splashed on front pages and over social media, whether she agreed to it or not. He was more than willing to let her tell him what she wanted to. Regardless of what she decided to tell him, he sat, enraptured. Her stories only made him admire her more: her passion, her drive, her unapologetic attitude concerning everything.

“I wish I could be that confident,” he says in reply to her return to the public eye.

“Andrei Svechnikov, all-star hockey player, wishes that he could be more confident?”

“I guess, more off the ice. I know who I am as a hockey player but when I don’t have skates on, I feel… not as bold.”

“Maybe I can help.”

Andrei’s eyebrows once again jump up in a question, every word that falls from this woman’s mouth intriguing him more.

“I’ll ask you some questions, and you respond with the honest truth,” she explains, her eyes sparkling with a sense of mischief that Andrei wanted to uncover.

After a moment of pondering, he responds with a small nod. His acceptance makes Keely smile and she leans back in her chair again, her blue irises staring him down.

“What’s your favorite lunch?”

“Really?” Andrei asks, her first question catching him off-guard once again – another tick mark to add to the mystery of the woman in front of him.

“Have to keep you on your toes.”

“Chicken and pasta.”

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs.”

“Favorite thing to do in your free time?”

“Fishing.”

“Person you trust the most?”

“My brother, Evgeni.”

“Girlfriend?”

The question draws Andrei’s attention, his brown eyes connecting with Keely’s blue. He can see the seriousness of the question within them. And, even deeper, the flicking of mistrust lurking in the aquamarine pools. That spark, that glimmer, hits Andrei squarely in the chest. He knew very little about Keely, not even the tabloid version, but that hesitation… it told him that she had been hurt, deeply. And in response, a fire flickered within him, one that vowed to make sure he never gave her a reason to distrust him.

“I don’t have one,” he replies, his voice steady and serious, hoping that the intensity of his feelings was matched by his voice.

Judging by how Keely relaxed back in her chair, it seems as if he got his wish.

“Why’d you come over here, Andrei?”

It was another challenge, another chance for him to be bold and tell the absolute truth. And this time, he didn’t wait for the best moment, didn’t dance around the words. Instead, he took a deep breath, met her gaze, and spoke the truth he was thinking the minute she stepped onto the stage at Scotiabank Arena.

“I think you’re beautiful. And… I’d like to spend a night with you.”

A slow smile twists across Keely’s face, taking in the sight of him sitting in front of her; maybe still a little uncertain but at least solid in his convictions.

“There you go. Confidence,” she says, the words slow and seductive.

There is a brief pause, the air between them thrumming with electricity before Keely breaks the spell, sighing and stretching her arms over her head before glancing down at her empty glass.

“Well, I was planning on going to bed once this drink was gone and it is. So, I guess I’ll head out,” she explains, her voice breezy and casual. She slides off the chair, grabbing her jacket and tossing it over her shoulders.

Andrei watches, a flash of confusion fliting through him as she reaches into her pocket, sliding out a thin card – presumably a credit card. However, that thought is disproved when she boldly takes a hold of his wrist, turning his hand palm-side up and placing the cool plastic into his hand.

“Top floor, room 15C. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Those statements and the cherry of her perfume was what she left him with as she swiftly turns and waltzes out of the hotel bar. Andrei’s eyes stay on her until she is out of sight and only then does he glance down at the card placed in his hand.

Keely had slipped him a copy of her hotel keycard.

The invitation is clear. She was offering the key to her room for him to use if he desired – if he truly wanted the things he said he did. But it was also another challenge for him to be bold and honest and maybe a bit brash.

The decision was entirely his.

And he wasn’t going to say no. He was going to see Keely. He was going to take full advantage of the night and of the opportunity she presented him.

He just needed to wait, just long enough as to not draw suspicion. He was under more of a microscope up here in Toronto than in Raleigh. But Keely had eyes on her no matter where she went. He wasn’t about to bring more drama into her life.

So, for the second time that night, he lingers. He chats to the people around him, give some quotes to the media, does as much as he can to make it seem like this was a normal night during an All-Star Weekend. He pretends that he can’t feel the weight of the keycard in his pocket and the ticking of the time.

Finally, he deems it long enough and, after paying for his drinks and giving the bartender a healthy tip, he extricates himself from the hotel bar. His sneakers barely make a sound as he crosses the plush carpet of the lobby, taking a direct route to the elevator. He is thankful that no one stops him, thankful that the elevator doors seem to open as soon as he presses the up button and thankful that he is alone in the space. Andrei hits the button emblazoned with 15 and watches the numbers on the LED screen rise, flying past the fourth floor (his room) towards his true destination.

The soft ding of the elevator sounds, the doors sliding open with a whoosh and he steps out. There is only one hallway stretching out in front of him, two doors on either side. Andrei steps out slowly, eyes locating the plaques with the room numbers next to each door.

His mind repeats the number that Keely gave him like a mantra, passing one door and then the next before stopping in front of room 15C. He stands in front of the entrance, the wood looking exactly like the doors around him, looking exactly like the door to his own room. But inside…

A myriad of images sprung into Andrei’s head, fantasies of what was waiting for him, each more intoxicating than the last. If there was any hesitation still lingering in his body, it was burned away but the hot flash of need and desire that surged through him. He slips the plain black keycard from his pocket, holding it over the doorknob until the light above turns from red to green. The door handle, cool in his hand, turns and he steps in.

And the sight that awaits him makes him stop in his tracks.

Every image that he had conjured up in his mind was nothing compared to what was now in front of his eyes: Keely, lying in bed, her hair splayed over the pillows, wearing nothing but an oversized band shirt, the hem scrunched up around her waist, and her hands between her open thighs.

Her soft moans hit his ears and Andrei cannot help but stare as her elegant fingers trace over her folds, glistening in the low lamplight of the bedroom. He watches the way her back arches when she presses the pads of her fingers against her clit, a whine emanating from her throat as she gently rubs the bundle of nerves before her hands slips back down. It is her middle and marriage fingers that plunge into her center, her head lolling to the side as she lets out a satisfied sigh.

Andrei feels like he is in a trance, helpless to do anything but let the scene in front of him unfold. His eyes trail up Keely’s body to connect to her face, taking in the bliss so clearly displayed. It isn’t until that moment do her eyelids flutter open, those electrifying blue irises connecting to his frame still lingering in the doorway. A cheeky smile tugs at her lips, even while her hands never cease their movements.

“Are you going to join me or just stand there with the door wide open?”

Her words snap Andrei out of whatever reverie he was in, his body moving at a speed that even he can’t comprehend. The door is kicked shut behind him, the force of it making the wood vibrate on its hinges. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice or even care. Of course he didn’t care. How could he worry about anything else besides the woman in front of him?

There is no hesitation in his body, no uncertainty any more. His hands move to tear his grey t-shirt away from his body, feeling his confidence only grow at the soft moan that falls from Keely’s mouth, her eyes unabashedly raking down his muscular frame. The only response he gives is a small grin, before kicking off his shoe and sinking down to his knees, his eyes now directly focused on the soaked space between her thighs.

He drinks in the sight of her fingers still buried in her folds, like something out of one of his wet dreams or a porno made just for him. He watches as she slips the slender digits from her core, her soft skin glistening with her arousal, acting like a silver webbing between her fingers as she runs them across her cunt.

“Do you need more of an invitation?” Her voice echoes through the room, the words twinged with a tease but also with a desperation that makes Andrei’s dick twitch in his jeans. “You kept me waiting long enough. Gonna make me wait some more?”

She was right, of course. While watching her was surely something he never thought he would experience, it wasn’t as if she was on a screen or miles away, untouchable. She was right there, almost begging for him. Who was he to refuse a superstar?

His body lifts, strong hands wrapping around each ankle, guiding her legs over his broad shoulders. Andrei can hear the whine that vibrates from her throat, her hips lifting as if to entice him further. Her knees hook over the muscle of his shoulders and he allows himself the chance to press a kiss onto the supple skin of her inner thighs.

The heat that emanates from her stokes the fire that burns within him and he slowly descends, wanting to savor every second even though he can hear the way Keely whines, clearly impatient. Finally, finally, he lets his lips connect to her drenched center.

There is nothing in the world that could stop the moan that rumbles from his chest as his tongue makes contact with her slick, the sweetness that pours from her core tasting as heavenly as ambrosia. He hears her satisfied sigh from above, feels one of her hands tangle into this hair as a gentle encouragement for more – a silent request he is all too willing to oblige.

His tongue moves, tracing every crevice, lapping every bit of nectar that floods his tastebuds. He wanted to devour her, wanted to be able to taste her even when this weekend was long over. His mouth rises slowly, finding her clit nestled at the apex of her folds and wraps his lips around it, suckling. The way her fingers tighten in his hair, her hips bucking up is all the confirmation he needs that he’s doing something right and he is more than happy to continue.

One of the hands that had been keeping a tight grip on her upper thigh moves to join his mouth, retracing the places that his tongue had previously been. His fingers circle her entrance, collecting the wetness practically pouring from her before one of them plunges into her core.

Their mutual moan fills the room and Andrei still can’t believe that this isn’t a fantasy. But judging from the way her cunt is clenching around his finger, he knows it’s not. She is warm and wet and real and all those things has Andrei pumping his wrist, coaxing even more of those intoxicating sounds from her mouth.

He’s slow at first, wanting to give her time and as much pleasure as he could. But when Keely raises her hips to meet his hand, he reads her desperation with ease and slides another finger inside. He works her open, each languid thrust met with more of those desperate noises, each buck of her hips just pulling him deeper. His tongue never ceases its movements against her clit, each suckle and flick releasing more of her sweet arousal which he greedily laps up like it was water and he was dying of thirst. His brown eyes watch her, registering which moves makes her head fall back, exposing the pale column of her throat, and which has her body trembling. He wanted to memorize everything – the way she sounds, the way she feels, the way she tastes.

It was only when he gently curled his fingers does her already strangled moans turn staccato gasps, her pussy fluttering around the thick digits. The smile that twists on Andrei’s lips is devilish as he moves again, his lips wrapping around her clit and suckling in time with the movement within her. It only takes three instances of the dual combination for Keely’s orgasm to hit, her body trembling with the force of it, her mouth wide in an almost silent moan.

The sensation of it, of her squeezing his fingers, of her release flooding his mouth makes Andrei groan in kind, his tongue busily working to lap up every drop, not wanting any to go to waste. It is only when he is satisfied with his work does he allow his fingers to slip from her core. His eyes dart up to connect with hers, eyelids heavy with lust as she stares down at him.

“Well,” she says, her voice breathless. “You might not know how to talk to a celebrity but you sure know how to make her come.”

The chuckle that rumbles from his chest at her words melds with her own breathless giggle. Andrei lets a moment pass before he presses his lips against her inner thighs, sliding her legs off from their perch on his shoulders and lifting his body upwards until his frame is hovering over the entirety of her.

“Want to do it again,” he murmurs.

“Confidence,” she replies, echoing her words from earlier, her eyes flashing with the same amount of desire as he was sure was reflected in his own pupils. A sly grin twists on her face. “I like how it looks on you.”

He wants to kiss her. God, does he want to kiss her. That desire had been brewing since he first saw her, but now; with the flush of her cheeks, her hair creating a halo on the pillowcases, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, her eyes looking up at him… he needed to kiss her.

But before he could even think of leaning down to press his lips against hers, Keely once again surprises him by hooking a leg over his hip, knocking one of his hands out from under him and using his falling momentum to her advantage, successfully flipping him over so it was his back that was now pressed against the hotel sheets.

A giggle falls from Keely at the bewildered expression on Andrei’s face and he gladly lets his initial shock morph into insane wonder at the woman he met only hours ago. Any words that he thought about uttering, any praise that may have fallen from his lips was silenced as Keely peels the cotton of her oversized shirt away from her body, exposing the entirety of her to him.

She was always beautiful but now, sitting naked above him, she was drop-dead gorgeous. She had a great body, that was obvious, but he was sure she knew what she was doing when she got the bejeweled tattoo that stretched across her abdomen and curved around her chest. The green jewels truly seem to glitter and only highlight her breasts even more, enticing him to reach towards her, his fingers tracing the design before moving over the soft skin of her breasts, teasing over the pebbled nipples. She arches to his touch, her hips moving against him and he can’t stifle the moan that falls from him at the friction of her soaked core against his still clothed cock.

“How many times do I have to tell you to fuck me, Andrei?” she questions from above him, her hips grinding against him again. He wants to give in right then and there, her body feeling so good against his already and he wanted to find out how good she would feel around him. But he also wanted her to voice her own desire for him. Not as a hot random stranger that she chose out of a dozen, but him alone.

“Maybe just one more,” he replies, his hands falling from her chest and tracing down the curves of her body. “Beg for it.”

“Oh,” Keely laughs, clearly taken aback by his demand. But that surprised huff turns into a softer more desperate gasp when Andrei grips her hips and deliberately grinds her core against his, the more intense friction against her still sensitive core causing her to shudder.

“Oh fuck,” she quietly curses, her hands planting onto Andrei’s muscular chest as she attempts to drag herself against him again. But this time, his strong hands hold her in place, denying her. Her blue eyes dart up to him, the pure lust displayed there making his own resolve falter. Until he hears what he had been waiting for fall from her lips.

“Please.”

That single syllable word is all Andrei needs.

His hands fall from Keely’s hips, darting between her thighs to hurriedly undo his jeans. Keely’s soft hands join his, twisting underneath the waistband of his pants and boxers and aiding him in shoving them down his legs, his hard cock bobbing up. Andrei tries not to preen as Keely’s tongue flicks over her lips at the sight before her gaze flits up to meet his again.

There are no words spoken between them, nothing verbally exchanged. Instead, Keely’s palms return to Andrei’s chest, steadying herself before lowering her body. Andrei grips himself, squeezing the base gently, willing himself to not finish the very moment she sinks onto him. His free hand returns to her hip, guiding her down, running the head over her folds a couple of times before aligning with her center.

The sensation of her heat wrapping around his length causes Andrei’s head to fall back, a guttural groan leaving his chest as she sinks lower. The feeling must be just as pleasurable to Keely, her own whispered curses hitting his eardrums as she shifts until their hips are flush against each other.

There is a stillness; no movement but the rise and fall of their chests, no sound but their heavy breathing. Andrei wills his eyes open and reconnects his gaze with Keely. The sight of her above him is a vision, her looking more like an angel appearing in a dream than something real. Hell, part of him still wasn’t 100% sure he wasn’t dreaming.

But when Keely’s hips move, grinding against him, any doubt is erased from his brain. Even in his darkest deepest fantasies, he could never imagine something this good.

It is a dance, a sensual tango. Her hands are poised on his chest and his hands tight against her hips as she moves her core against him, each press of her along his length as sinful as the last. Andrei wants to keep his eyes open, wants to memorize every miniscule detail: the way her hair falls in her face, the roll of her hips, the shadows that are cast across her skin. But it is hard to do anything but lay back and let her ride him, let her take whatever she wanted from him, anything and everything that he could give.

Keely shifts slightly, a gasp falling from her and Andrei picks up on her reaction, thrusting his hips upward to meet the same spot. Another gasp sounds from her and is about to turn into a moan when Andrei sees her bite her lip, stifling the sound even as she desperately chases the sensation once again. One of Andrei’s hands lifts to cup her jaw. The feeling of his calloused skin against her porcelain cheek causes her eyes to open, gazing down at him.

His thumb stretches across her jawline, the tip of it pressing underneath her lip, gently pulling the flesh from between her teeth.

“Want to hear you,” he groans. “Want to hear the pretty sounds you make.”

She laughs, the sound wavering a little as their hips never stop moving against each other.

“Have to save my voice so you and everyone else can hear how pretty I sing,” she attempts to explain.

“You have a whole day. Want to hear how pretty you sound just for me.”

“Just for you?”

The question isn’t meant to be cruel and yet, Andrei can feel the bite of it. He knows, intrinsically, that he is not the only man that Keely has allowed into her bed and – considering their circumstances – he certainly wouldn’t be the last. But he lets that sting fuel him, drive him.

Initially, he wanted to kiss her. Now, he wanted to make sure that she knew no one else could make her feel the way he does.

The hand that was on her cheek descends again, taking time to carefully caress every ridge and dip of her body, paying close attention to the places that make her shudder and her movements on top of him falter. Slowly, almost painstakingly so, his hand returns to her hip, holding her tight and stopping her movements. He gets a small whine from her in response, a whimper that makes his lips curl in a smirk.

“I want to hear how good its feels,” Andrei says, his voice thick and low. “How good I make you feel.”

Keely is about to laugh again – that breathless teasing giggle that Andrei had come to know – but the sound is cut-off as Andrei thrusts his hips up, his thumb stretching to press against her clit. She moans, unabashedly now, the noises she makes crystal clear and as melodic as any song that he had ever heard. Andrei continues his pace and his movements within and against her, his eyes never leaving her, committing the sight into memory, something to get off to once this weekend was over and she was back to being a celebrity on his phone screen and a voice through his radio speakers.

He watches the way her body trembles, feels her nails dig into the muscle of his chest, and hears those beautiful noises falling from her mouth become shaky. He doesn’t stop, not until she is clenching around him, a jumble of curses and moans and – even more exquisitely – the sound of his name falling from her mouth as her orgasm rushes through her. It is maddening, the feeling of her pussy fluttering around him as she comes down.

It takes every modicum of Andrei’s self-control not to come undone as well, his hands gripping her hips so tightly he worries there would be bruises the next day. He can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes deeply, his own eyes closed with a focus that he had only ever displayed on the ice. It is Keely’s soft laugh and the feeling of her lips pressing against his jawline that has him returning to the moment. The feeling of her kissing his skin blissfully distracts him from the sensation of her lifting off him, his still rigid cock slapping against his equally hard stomach.

He groans, his own desperation getting the better of him as his hips lift to chase her but she stills his movements with the grip of her soft hand wrapping around him. It isn’t nearly as good as her cunt but he is too far gone to complain.

“Want me to take care of this for you, all-star?” she whispers into his ear, delivering a slow languid stroke to emphasize her words. Her movements bring forth a moan from his own mouth, as well as a desperate nod of his head. He didn’t care how or what she had planned, he just needed her.

“Now it’s your turn to show me how pretty you sound,” Keely continues, her lips descending to kiss his jawline. And when she starts to slowly pump her hand, Andrei complies.

Even if he wanted to, he could not stop the moans that fell from him, the muttered Russian curses, the way his hips jumped up to meet her hand. She truly had him wrapped around her finger and he didn’t care. All he cared about was her: the feeling of her body pressed against his side, the touch of her hand against his cock, the sensation of her lips sucking hickeys onto his throat.

It is a twist of her hand coupled with a nip of her teeth against his skin that finally has his own orgasm hit, his body stilling as his cum paints his abdomen in thick creamy lines. Keely doesn’t stop her hand until he is spent, a soft hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

She releases his cock, her fingers trailing up his body, collecting his release. Andrei opens his eyes just in time to see her seductively run her fingers over her lips before plunging them into her mouth, moaning at the taste of him on her tongue. He feels his dick twitch with renewed interest, now needing to know how those plush lips would look wrapped around him.

Releasing her fingers with a wet pop, Keely smiles at him, either blissfully unaware of the power she held or happy to wield it as casually as possible. Whatever it may be, she curls back into his side, her head coming to nestle on his shoulder as her legs tangle around his. He stays there with her, his own hand running up and down her side gently, content to bask in the golden glow of the moment.

Eventually, the sensation of dried sweat and slick become uncomfortable and Andrei moves, carefully departing from Keely. He didn’t want to, of course. If it was up to him, he would’ve quit his job to fly around on private jets and be backstage at all her shows if it meant spending more nights with her in his arms. But that wasn’t what this was. He knew that.

“Headed out?” Keely asks, her voice drowsy with a combination of sleep and exhaustion.

“Need to get back to my room. Get some sleep for tomorrow,” he explains.

“Probably for the best,” come her reply, understanding the situation as well as he did. “But you are welcome to use my shower before you leave.”

In his mind, he knew that he would be able to ride the elevator down to his floor in mild discomfort and clean up in the privacy of his own room. But something made him nod in agreement. Perhaps he wanted to spend more time in Keely’s presence, maybe the offer allowed him to look more into her world. Whatever the reason, he walks around the bed to the bathroom and switches on the lights.

He is greeted with the exact same layout as his own bathroom but with some slight differences, things that were distinctively Keely.

The makeup bag spilled open on the counter, the red candy bar shaped perfume bottle, the small ceramic dish that held a necklace and a ring with two hands holding a crowned heart, and a candle that was still burning, releasing the smell of eucalyptus and lavender in the air.

Andrei smiles at the small glimpses of her personality before stepping into the shower, letting the water wash off the remnants of their tryst. He debates using the body wash sitting in the green bottle but defaults to the complimentary bar of soap, cleaning himself before turning off the water.

After drying his skin with the plush bath towel and blowing out the candle on the counter, he returns to the bedroom to find Keely curled up under the white covers, her breath slow and steady as she sleeps. Silently, Andrei moves around the room, picking up his clothes and returning them to his frame. He sits down at the desk to tie his shoes and once again debates whether he should scribble his number down on the pad of paper perched next to him.

He wants to be bold and confident, like Keely liked, but without her gentle smile encouraging him, everything felt like he was walking a tightrope and one wrong misstep could ruin it all. So, he plays it safe. The only thing that he allows himself to indulge a kiss pressed against her temple before he slips out of her hotel room.

~*~*~*~*~

When Andrei walks into the locker room on Saturday, a sigh of relief whooshes from him when he sees Keely, decked out in the yellow of her own All-Star jersey, standing next to Nathan’s stall, listening to him and Sidney talk, a smile on her face.

It had been a little over twenty-four hours since he had left her hotel room and this was the first time he saw her again. She wasn’t around during the Skills Competition the day prior which Andrei found odd considering that the other celebrity captains were wandering around the ice. He had soothed the panicked part of his brain with the rational of her hanging with her family or rehearsing for her performance, instead of immediately assuming it was because of him. But he wouldn’t be certain until he could talk to her again.

He glances in her direction, hoping to catch her eye. Her head eventually turns towards him, their eyes meeting and once again, Andrei’s heart skips a beat when she smiles at him, her eyes bright. It feels like a sign that they would both be able to get through today without it being terribly awkward.

He tries to focus, let his body go through the muscle memory of his pre-game ritual – no different than he does every Carolina Hurricanes game. Occasionally, he still glances in Keely’s direction, watches her mill around and take a few pictures for media, noticing that he hasn’t heard her voice. The answer as to why hits his ear a few moments later – vocal rest for her performance – and a part of him deflates at not being able to hear her cheer or celebrate.

Eventually, everyone makes it to the bench and the first round of the All-Star game starts, Team MacKinnon against Team McDavid. Andrei lets himself be lost in the familiar feeling of the ice gliding beneath his skates, the music of the puck being passed from stick to stick. He only momentarily gets distracted by the smell of a familiar cherry perfume behind him, causing images – images that were entirely inappropriate to be thinking about during a hockey game – to pop into his head. He manages to pull them out of his brain but Team MacKinnon were unable to pull out the win, losing in a shootout to Team McDavid.

He doesn’t let the loss shake him too bad, knowing that it doesn’t mean anything except the inability to win more money – something that he feels he has too much of already. Instead, he lets himself strip back down to the sweatpants and branded hoodie combo that he arrived in, content to sit and watch for the rest of the day.

After Team Matthews overtakes Team Hughes in another shootout, Andrei finds himself wandering onto the ice, a stage now set up in the center and a smaller one to the left. He finds some of the benches that were previously used for the draft pressed against the penalty boxes and takes a seat, joined shortly by some other players like Marner, Swayman, the Hughes brothers, and Wilson.

The lights dim, the cheer from the crowd going up as the bassline emanates from the speakers and Andrei watches as dancers file out before being followed by Keely herself. Gone is the bright yellow of her All-Star jersey, now replaced with a black bodysuit that shimmers under the spotlight, highlighting every curve.

If the world faded when she stepped out onto the stage, it all but vanished completely when she started singing. Andrei leans in, listening, intent on picking up every detail that he could. And what he hears makes his heart ache.

It isn’t the first song that catches his attention (although he would agree that he had never met a girl like her before) but the last three songs that cleared some lingering questions in his mind.

You have more pieces of me than the desert has sand & I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand.

You were my everything and all that you did was make me fucking sad.

I’ll play the villain in your life – whatever helps you sleep at night.

He didn’t follow celebrity gossip, didn’t make note social media headlines, but here, right now, it felt like Keely herself was telling him everything: a story of heartbreak and betrayal. It felt as if he could see her for exactly who she was; someone who had every pain inflicted upon them and still carried those feelings with them, despite the front she presented to the world.

Andrei feels like he is cheering the loudest of them all when she strikes her final pose, the spotlights shining down. She smiles to the crowd, giving a small bow and a wave to the stadium around her before turning and heading back down the locker room tunnel.

It takes Andrei a few minutes of wandering through the tunnels of Scotiabank before he finds Keely again, this time leaning against the wall in a nice shirt and casual jeans, a glass of white wine perched in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Hey,” he says, walking those final few paces towards her. The sound of his voice causes her head to lift, a smile appearing on her lips when her eyes land on him.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I, um… I wanted to say that you were really good. Performing, I mean.”

“Oh. So, I wasn’t good Thursday night?” Keely teases, taking another casual sip of her wine, no doubt relishing the sight of Andrei’s cheeks turning pink as those images return easily to his mind.

“No, you were… you were fucking fantastic that night,” he says, watching as Keely’s own smile grows.

The two of them stand there in silence, the space between them feeling as much of a contradiction as their own connection. What did it mean to know someone in such an intimate way but also be so detached from each other in every other possible aspect? The rockstar and the hockey player: a pairing that no one would have guessed.

Andrei hated it – hated the distance between them that would only widen after this weekend. But he didn’t want to lose Keely, even though all logic stated that he should forget about their tryst and not pursue her further. But his desire to have her close overwhelmed his rational mind, which had his next words falling from his lips.

“Listen,” he begins, his voice still a tad uncertain. “I’m not sure what your life looks like right now – I know mine is only going to get busier – but I really enjoyed being with you. Not just in bed but in general. And if you want to connect later, I’ll be available.”

Andrei waits, studying her face and every miniscule expression that passes over her. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t backtrack, doesn’t do anything except let the silence linger between them as Keely thinks. He watches as her blue eyes lift to meet his and for the first time since he spoke to her, he can see a vulnerability glimmer in those sapphire pools, the sight of it making his heart ache.

“Would you wait for me, Andrei?” she asks, her voice quiet and he can feel the weight of that question rest on his shoulders. How many badly had people hurt her? How deep was the betrayal that she experienced that made her this uncertain? Whatever the answer was to those questions, he knew the resounding answer to hers.

“I would.”

Keely’s lips lift in a small smile, clearly able to hear the conviction in his voice.

“Confidence,” she whispers, echoing the words from that first night once again. She takes a sip of her wine and Andrei watches as her demeanor shifts back into the savvy rockstar that he had known. “Well, then… I might take you up on that offer.”

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles brightly. He is content to give her a nod, turning away from her and ready to walk back down the tunnel. But then a thought nags at the back of his brain, yelling at him in the same tone as an annoyingly familiar voice. Andrei spins and returns to stand in front of Keely, an adorably amused but somewhat confused expression on her face.

“I have one last favor to ask you,” he says, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his phone. “Could you make a video for my teammate Seth? He’s a huge fan.”

The sound of her laughter echoing down the hallway at his request makes Andrei smile, slightly chuckling with her.

“Not what I thought you would say but of course. Anything for a fan,” she replies, the bright lilt in her voice matching her laughter. “Seth? That’s his name?”

Andrei nods and holds his phone up towards her, watching through the screen as she places her wine glass down on the ground and turn towards him. A small nod of her head gives him the go-head to start the recording.

“Hi Seth. I heard from someone here at the All-Star game that you were a big fan. It’s wild to think that my music is listened to by professional hockey players and who knows, maybe I have you to thank for getting me to Toronto. Maybe next All-Star game, I’ll see you here.”

Keely ends the video with a wink and even a cheeky kiss blown in the cameras direction before waving goodbye. Andrei stops the recording, saving it to his photos and he feels Keely slide up next to him. His fingers hit the play button and they both watch the video back. Keely hums softly and he looks down at her, an embarrassed grimace on her face.

“That last bit might have been too much,” she explains and Andrei drags the play-bar back, watching the video of Keely’s wink and kiss. And looking at it again, he can see that her eyes are not trained at the camera lens but at the cameraman – him. It makes his heartbeat increase at the sight of her so boldly flirting with him but he also understands her hesitation. Seth would surely notice and ask questions and Andrei did not want… whatever was happening between them, to leak before they even had a chance to discover what it all meant.

“Do you think you could edit it out?”

“Sure,” he replies.

Andrei is quick to nod his head, even faster to open the editor and cut that small section out of the video. He pauses over the save button, the app asking if he wants to save the new video separately or replace the old one with it. His eyes flick back to Keely, her own blue irises sparkling up at him, seeing his hesitation.

“Mind if I keep that last bit for myself?” he questions. The proposal brings another smile onto Keely’s face and he can almost see the quiet laughter in her eyes.

“Not at all. It was meant for you anyway.”

taglist: @fallinallincurls @laureniray @comphy-and-cozy @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @thewintersoldierdisaster

let me know if you want to be tagged in this story or if you want to add yourself to my general taglist, click here!!

#nicole writes #so tragic and rare fic #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x oc #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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kyurume · 10 months ago

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"he'd be the type of guy to.." haikyuu edition ♡

notes: NOT proofread, i wrote rhis at 1:50am just some thoughts, all will be written with timeskip versions of them in mind. fem reader just cause also i chnaged title cuz it sidnt make sense LMAO

warning/s: NONE

genre: fluff

characters: hinata shoyo, kozume kenma, kageyama tobio, miya atsumu

hinata would be the type of guy to let your dates go unplanned (in a good way!!!) ypu guys get to do whatever you'd like, unrestrained. if you wanna go to a goodwill/thrift store and find cool items, he'd happily go with you. he'll also secretly get you some things that you stared at for too long. like those sparkly pink cowboy boots, a music box where instead of a ballerina spinning it's a middle finger, and a bikini that barely covers anything. then after buying those, you'd go in your car, and he'd hide them under the car seat, but the bikini's straps stick out from under the seat, and you go "what the fuck is that??" so he has no choice but to bring out the bag filled with the stuff you looked like you wanted, and surprised you early. do you want to go to an indoor volleyball court? hinata rented one just for the two of you to play. but you never got to play anything, you two are busy running around, playing hide and seek in the surprisingly large building. yes, for other people, things don't always go to plan. but for you two? you make the best out of unplanned surprises.

kenma would be the type of guy to really REALLY appreciate all of your pitiful efforts to pay him back for what he buys you. he loves, LOVES spoiling you, spending his CEO money on you is his love language. even though he acts a little nonchalant about it, he always loves seeing the smile on your face when he bought you something you've wanted for so long. but, you'd feel bad about what he's spending on you, and the effort he puts into working so hard 24/7, and going with you to the mall and buying you everything. so, you decide to repay him in different ways! like baking cookies that took you all day to bake but they taste bitter, but he still eats all of them in one sitting. you made him lots of origami flowers, he'd have it displayed in his room, without a single speck of dust landing on the paper, he knows that you feel guilty about him spending lots on you so you do these things, he keeps telling you that what he's spending on you isn't going to make a dent in his bank account, but you still wouldn't listen. (he secretly freaks out if you do things for him)

kageyama would be the type of guy to learn about anything you're into, and he'd teach you about what he's into in return. if you like a certain singer/band, and you love to quote a line from a song/an inside joke, he's going to be curious about it, and eventually, he'll start quoting it too, (at the start, he usually had trouble deciding whether or not the situation you're in would apply, but he's quoting that lyric/inside joke like he knows that band/singer better than you do.) he taught you volleyball, do you love spiking? he'd set for you, and you'd drive that ball home. do you prefer setting? he's gonna make you attend setter bootcamp, on god he's gonna turn into your coach instead of your boyfriend. you like blocking? he'd make sure he'd get his hits past your blocks, and of course tell you all sorts of positions you put your hands in if you want to change the trajectory of the ball, or completely shut it out. do you like recieving? he'll throw different types of serves your way so you'll learn how to recieve all of them perfectly. or if you'd love serving more, he'd be teaching you how to get service aces and eventually be better at serving than his team (according to him). he may be a pro volleyball player, but that doesn't mean he won't make time for you.

atsumu would be the type of guy to relax and pamper yourselves in his free time. despite his loud and rowdy personality, you and mr japanese barry b benson with a kansai accent, oftentimes go to spas, and get massages, facial treatments, all that good stuff. then he'd take you out to a hot spring after a major tournament is over, the steaming water helping to relax, and also give his skin some benefits too! after all, he's a volleyball player that has the looks of an idol, he has a face and body he has to maintain. if you guys don't want to go out, he'll look up recipes for diy mud masks to apply to eachothers faces, maybe even bringing out a stash of facemasks from his skincare mini frige and watch a movie together while waiting for the facemask to dry out. you're pretty lucky to have a skincare boyfriend, since you have never had a single skin problem ever since you started dating him. if there's an event you two will be attending, he'll prioritize the both of you looking and feeling fresh. you two would be the couple with the clearest skin in the room.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #miya atsumu #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #haikyu fluff #fanfic #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #hinata shoyo

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 10 months ago

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no like really even without the timeline context of when it leaked Hand of God is so incredibly messed up like???? FOB's always been good at public indictments of the way they've been treated, that's like, a significant amount of their discography especially prehiatus and ESPECIALLY Cork Tree which does it very bitterly and sardonically but Hand of God feels like it takes it a step farther with "which is it, the boy who writes the songs or the boy who's in them?" because like YES there is more than one way to interpret that and I'm cool with that but it's doing a massive disservice to FOB and to Pete's writing to skim over the point within the larger whole of the song that they are one and the same. the boy who writes the songs IS the one who's in them, that's been true for most of Fall Out Boy's career. they're SUPER vulnerable in their songwriting, even when it's sarcastic and tongue in cheek, there's always a piece of truth in it. they wrote an entire fricking song about Pete's suicide attempt. the boy who writes the songs has always been the one who's in them, this isn't mutually exclusive. and Hand of God is IMMENSELY self-referential. it's literally Pete writing about himself. "who's the girl, is this truth, or is he writing fiction?" were all questions asked repeatedly on their forums and in Q&As with Pete.

"I am the worst liar I know" coming from the song that is possibly the most raw, honest draft or demo from Cork Tree — which also contains lyrics such as "we're only liars, but we're the best" (tongue in cheek turnaround of criticisms against the band) and "you only hold me up like this because you don't know who I really am" and "if you say this makes you happy then I'm not the only one lying" and "it's just a matter of time until we're all found out" and "I'll keep singing this lie if you keep believing it" (in a song that was essentially the band's mission statement, for lack of a better term) and "the record won't stop skipping and the lies just won't stop slipping and besides my reputation's on the line" (in a song that Pete himself said was way too personal to play live and has also said was the first half of a story that Hum Hallelujah, which is explicitly about his suicide attempt, later completed) and "I went to sleep a poet and woke up a fraud" (Music or the Misery is on a different edition but the point still stands) and "I keep telling myself I'm not the desperate type" (in a song titled sarcastically after the medication Pete overdosed on) — is fricking insane. there's a completely unfiltered, untwisted-into-sarcasm honesty in Hand of God and even though it (rightfully, because it would have been Too Much) didn't make it onto the final album, it functions as as much of a thesis statement as Sophomore Slump does. it functions as as much of a confessional as Dark Alley. Hand of God is at the heart of Cork Tree, practically haunting it, and it isn't even on the album.

#not to mention the whole second verse taken into context that the demo was leaked in jan/feb 05 which like. holy crap is that effed up #Lu rambles #sorry for doing this on main but #lftos essay #fob #fall out boy #from under the cork tree

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mammomlette · 3 months ago

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"𝙸 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗

𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙸'𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛."

-'𝙵𝚎𝚛𝚗' 𝚋𝚢 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚔𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚑

Synopsis: Satan’s world used to be burnt by hatred, but recently he can’t seem to stop the warmth he feels when around the human exchange student.

Genre: Fluff?? None? (Romantic)

Warnings: One of the last paragraphs is a littleeee bit suggestive, not proofread

Notes: Satan x MC, I made this at midnight as I do most things so I blame low quality stuff in that🧍‍♀️also I haven’t wrote in ages ok so give me mercy, MC is referred to with they/them pronouns!! ‘Her’ is used in the title because that’s the song lyrics, but MC is gender neutral :)

Word count: 754

For a long time, all Satan saw was the flames burning through the Devildom. Looking out of the civilised areas and into the land past the denizens and watching as the natural flames of the Devildom overtook trees and small animals, growing higher and higher and killing more and more.

Or even if he looked within the walls of the city and into the halls of RAD, even within the perimeter of his own home, there was the omnipresent chaos that comes with a demons nature. Fires, all around, some extinguished and some fed, but fires none the less.

There were the screams. The damned souls or the unfortunate lower demons stupid enough to venture out of the safety of the more civilised Devildom. The shrieks of pain and agony, cries for their long gone family and careless friends to try and save themselves from their own self-inflicted wounds and shenanigans.

All of it was the norm to Satan. He was a demon, and unlike his housemates, he wasn’t turned into one. He was made as one. It was in his very blood since the moment of his very creation to feed on the cacophonous screams of terror and to admire the bright flickering lights in the distance, to bask in its attack and glory.

The burning hurt, but it was part of a demons nature to touch fire.

Never did he long to seek out the daylight his brothers described from their celestial days nor did he yearn for peace and tranquility that the celestial realm presents.

So why now was it that he spent so long yearning for a human?

Horrible choirs of unwilling participants being replaced by the sweet harmonies of their laughter, the fires causing chaos in the distance being replaced by the flush on your cheeks when he gets to close or says something in that’s hushed manner, disrupting his heart instead of those of the innocent.

Never had he felt so in tune with his brothers. He has always been different to them, knowing they have different origins, knowing they have different powers, knowing they have different thoughts and feelings- However now, he finally understood them. The way they, among other demons, would turn their heads as you walk past and the way people would whisper about how sweet you seemed (In what way, he wondered)

He, liked the rest of the crowd, followed you around helplessly after you slowly made your way into his heart and combined your souls into a beautiful pact mark on your skin.

The way you would stop and look at him, for even a second, when with someone else while they were talking. The way you would turn to him and stifle a laugh whenever someone was making too much of a fool of themselves at an important meeting or during a lesson, biting your lip or hiding your face while your shoulders shook. The way you would always ask what he wanted whenever you were going up to buy something, even though you both knew he had more money than you and wouldn’t mind queueing on his own if he wanted something so badly.

The little things showing you cared.

The way you would spray yourself in human body sprays to create such an artificially sweet smell or the way you licked around your lips after chugging a drink or shoving too much food down your mouth was utterly tantalising. Did you even know?

Did you know how he wanted to eat you up, give in to his demonic nature and devour you in so many ways, like a cannibal? Know how badly he wanted to taste your food on your tongue and smell your body spray from his head planted right in your neck?

Did you even know how badly he wanted to put you on a pedestal, high above everyone else for the three worlds to see, and did you know how much that thought fought with his urge to keep you to himself like a collectable, delicate and gorgeous and all his?

His yearning was indescribable, but he would never stop pining after you even if he could. Because the way you look back at him and offer your hand with the slightest shake in your smile and the smallest blush on your cheeks gives him the slightest flicker of hope that you might just yearn for for him like he yearns for you. And a little flicker is always capable enough to turn into a flame.

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the-cards-she-wont-show · 8 months ago

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TTPD Twin Storylines weaved together & double meanings throughout! ✌️👯‍♀️💕

Attention ALL Swifties (particularly Gaylors) and associates of the Tortured Poets department

PLEASE READ!! (and read with an open mind!!)🤍

Listening to the amazing TTPD on repeat this past week, I am certain that I have made an important discovery that I haven't seen talked about anywhere else yet and would like to get the coversation going, in hopes that Taylor will see that we are all finally listening to her! I'm still piecing everything together, as there is so much to unravel and am far from calling myself an expert on her exact timelines and dates, so am looking forward to hearing thoughts from others that are more knowledgable in her history.

I have been of the belief for a while now that Mastermind and Dear Reader were foretelling of her future, and also that the album title had a double meaning (evidenced by the lack of apostrophe in 'poets'). That the tortured poet would be departing. Note that I am also a believer that she has been closeted by those closest to her and is preparing to ruin her name and perceived reputation, give up the false public version of herself and come into her own true self. Everything as we know it will be destroyed and it is all playing out now, coming together as part of her plan.

Falling in line with all of the two's - the double album, the double meaning in the album name, the two sides of taylor etc, I have found that there are two intertwining stories told throughout her tracklist, AND that all songs also have a double meaning!! None of which are about the perceived muses of Travis, Matty or Joe. The 'evidence' for those relationships are all red herrings (for example 'putting narcotics into all of my songs' - but only in the songs with obvious reference to her beards), to make it seem ambiguous and open to interpretation of who the songs may be about, which is seen often throughout her discography. She uses an incredible amount of metaphors and we must look beyond those to decipher her lyrics - do not take anything at face level with Taylor. Most should realise that she is so much smarter than making obvious songs about whichever male muse she is 'dating' at the time. She has always played into that public view to cover her true self. Many songs have themes of secret and hidden love, which juxtaposes with the public 'relationships' she is seen as having.

She tells us in 'The Manuscript' that "lookin' backwards might be the only way to move forward". Therefore we must listen to TTPD in reverse, from track 31 (13 reversed!) to track 1. I believe The Manuscript also acts as a bookend for both of her stories and should be listened to as a closer after the last song of the story 'Fortnight' ends, to get a complete picture. Once we have listened to the album in reverse order, can we see so plainly that each song tells a different story of a period/situation/muse/love/heartbreak in her life - beginning at her parents meeting in The Manuscript, to current day. I think the songs may also actually have a sister song from the corresponding album/period in time, with similar sound, lyrics or theme that connects them. I believe that each song also has a double meaning and can be interpreted as messages to her fans about things that have happened to her over the years or that are about to happen, and she is trying to communicate her feelings of being trapped, which is honestly so heartbreaking. Many relate to her being caged and forced to hide her true self, in particular by one person closest to her - her father. It is devastating to listen to.

The really brilliant part I discovered next, is that The Anthology tracks also have another hidden storyline being told which intertwines and intersects in the exact right place to fit in with her life story. It includes all of the "THE" songs and is in reverse order from the parallel life story and vinyl variants order of issue (but chronological track list order).

The Tortured Poets Department

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

The Alchemy

The Black Dog

The Albatross

The Prophecy

The Bolter

The Manuscript

Rather than presenting my interpretation of the timeline and each story told in every song, I urge everyone to listen to both stories, in these exact orders, with an open mind as to what she could possibly be describing! My mind was completely blown when I figured this out!! Her mind is incredible, there is no other way to describe the album, other than a masterpiece! I feel so much for the pain she has gone through. This album explains her feelings and reasons for hiding her true self over the years for any fans that will inevitably be feeling upset and deceived. We all need to show compassion for everything Taylor has sacrificed and give her what she needs. She truly deserves love, honesty, happiness and peace. ✌️💜

I'm in the process of creating a document trying to piece all of the hidden connections together just to wrap my head around this amazing body of work, so may possibly link this when I have it completed, otherwise I will add it to this post for anyone that might be interested.

I have a couple of extra personal thoughts, theories and hopes for anyone still reading…

The manuscript of her life story may possibly be the manuscript for a future book/film.

I think one meaning of "Fortnight" is a foretelling message to the fans that havent been noticing any of her many hair pin drops - she has been trying to get the message across but they aren't listening. For the fans she loses when she comes out - she touched them with this album for only a fortnight, before she lost them. She loves the fans but staying in the closet is ruining her life. I think something big could be happening a fortnight after release? Friday 3rd May is International Sun Day. ☀️ Karlie Kloss was always 'sunshine' to Taylor. According to Karlie, their first meeting was at the 2011 Met Gala on May 2, however, there is a possibility that they could have met at the afterparty - after midnight, making the anniversary May 3! 2024 Met Gala is a few days later, could they both make an appearance? If nothing big occurs, perhaps some seeds of doubt will be planted on the 3rd? Or.. It could also be a surprise rep TV (with or without Karma and Debut - surprise triple drop?) with wlw vault tracks?! Who really knows.. I honestly have no idea, but whatever happens, I know Taylor has it all meticulously planned out and everything will happen when it is supposed to.

Taylor is chairman of the Tortured Poets department - the leader of the mass coming out we are about to see. As Chely Wright put - 'we need someone at the top' to come out and pave the way for others to do the same, and to stop the forced closeting in the celebrity world. I think Travis and the majority of her former beards are also queer and there will be many more 'tortured poets' that will join 'the department'.

Karma will be album 1 (TS12) in the 3,2,1 countdown, TS13 is 0 - the album in which she gets all of her full colour back, reclaims her glitter gel pens and finally can sing her truth proudly! She has destroyed her own name and reputation, burnt down the lover house and all her former selves.

Last of all, PLEASE BE KIND! If anyone has made it to the end of this and doesnt agree, I'd love for you to have a listen to the songs in the orders above before commenting. If not, lets just agree to disagree! We all have our own personal takes on Taylor's lyricism and I would never dream of being unkind to another just for having a difference of opinion. 🫶

For Taylor - if you somehow happen to see this - please know you are truly a mastermind, you are loved and we've got you!

🌈💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌈

❤️ gerimegs

#taylor swift #gaylor #kaylor #ttpd #thetorturedmusesdept #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets dept #taylorswift #swifties #taylornation #tsttpd #taylor swift eras #erastour

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justmeinadaze · 2 years ago

Text

Take It Out On Me (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: *melts into goo* I swear the vibes I get from this story and where I can go with it are a mix of Ariana Grande's "Dangerous Woman" and "I Didn't Change My Number" but Billie Eilish lol That lost song is actually where I got the title because I saw a TikTok where some did the Steddie AI followed by the lyrics "Take it out on you...and your best friend to."

So this is set in the 80s and I chose to make the reader plus size because I haven't done it before with these two and because we plus sized babes are sexy bitches ;). (All you souls, no matter your size are beautiful. Never forget that <3)

Warnings: Dominate Steddie and Sub Reader, she's not a virgin but she's definitely new to this. Everything in this story is consensual! Even though they are rough with her they do come up with a safe word and tell her she can stop if she wants (and they would! I would never write a version of these boys who wouldn't.)

There is degrading (mostly about how the reader wants to be used), spanking, choking... rough smut for sure but followed with aftercare.

Word Count: 3953

This wasn’t normal for you. You never got in trouble at school but today was just one of those days. Carol was picking on you again because of your appearance. Every day it was something different. Your hair looked flat, your clothes were hideous, or something you were reading at the lunch table made you “a dork”.

Today, it was how fat your ass looked in your jeans. You slammed your locker shut as you turned to face her. “At least I have an ass, you ugly bitch!”

“Y/N Y/L/N!”, Ms. O’Donnell scolded. You hadn’t even noticed she was there. She sent you to the principal’s office where he gave you a week’s worth of detention after school.

You were surprised when you entered the designated classroom to find it empty except for the teacher in charge.

“Ah Miss Y/N, I presume. In for offensive language and bullying a fellow student. Come in and have a seat. I’m waiting on two more.”

You flash him a soft smile as you slide into the desk in the front corner. The door opens again and fear dances through your eyes as Steve Harrington saunters in and throws himself down in a desk in the middle of the room.

“Our very own basketball and swim star himself, Steven Harrington. Currently in detention today fooooor…”, the teacher looks at the papers in front of him. “Being caught in the girl’s bathroom. Huh. Did you get lost?”

Before he could respond, the final student entered loudly swinging the door open as he flew in. “Hey! Mr. C! How are we this fine afternoon?”

“Mr. Eddie Munson. Always a pleasure, sir. What are we in for today?”

“I may or may not have caused a disruption in the lunchroom today.”

“Mhmm. Well, since everyone is here, we can start. Detention begins at 5pm sharp and if you aren’t here on time, I do get to tell the principal who will do with you as he will.”

“Sounds sexy.”, the metalhead grins as he sits on top of a desk and crosses his legs.

“Mr. Munson, I know you’ve heard this many, MANY times but for the new prisoners can you please…shut up.” The boy salutes him as the teacher continues. “The majority of the time, you guys will be here, SILENTLY, doing homework or reading, I really don’t care. Just be quiet. Depending on what is going on that day this week we may help out with things. The theater kids have a play on Friday and need help with the sets. As I’m sure Mr. Harrington knows, there’s also a game so the pep squad may need stuff set up.”

“Other than that, let’s just shut up and get through the week, okay?”

The first twenty minutes go by extremely slow as you try to focus on the homework in front of you. After a while, you felt someone watching, turning your head to see Steve staring at you. Something in those admittedly gorgeous brown irises sent a tingle through your body. It felt like he was trying to read you with the little information he had in front of him.

You jumped as a loud beeping echoed through the room and a small devious smile spread across his face.

“Shit.” The teacher pulled his beeper off his belt, furrowing his eyebrows anxiously. “That’s my wife. I’m going to make a quick call but if I come back and I catch you all talking or fucking around…” He points at the metalhead accusingly as he runs out the door.

“Jesus Christ. I thought he would never leave.” Eddie sighed as he got up and slid into the desk in front of Steve reaching out to high five him. “Harrington. What are you in for?”

“Fucking Tammie told Ms. Luhrmann I was hiding in the girl’s bathroom.”

“You pervert.”

“It’s not what you think, ok! I left Nancy a note but she never showed up.”

“I told you, man. You need to stay away from those good girls. Speaking of…” Eddie swivels around on the desk to face you. “What are you in for, sweetheart?”

You curl a bit into your body, hoping they’ll just leave you alone. You don’t belong here. This isn’t normal for you. You just wanted to get through the week and never think about this again.

Two hands, one of them covered in rings, come into your field of view in front of you as they press against your desk. “I asked you something, princess. Don’t be rude now.”

You closed your eyes at the deep tone of his voice. He sounds so sexy…

“She can definitely speak. Talked back to Carol today. It was amazing.”

That grabbed your attention as you turned to look at him. When you yelled at Carol, he wasn’t in the immediate group but he must have been nearby. They were his friends after all.

“What did that bitch say?” Eddie asked Steve but his eyes never left you.

“Said she had a fat ass.” The other boy rolls his eyes.

“And what did you say?” He asks, speaking to you again.

Your eyes found his before they left to scan you lips, down your curvy body, and back up to your face.

“Boo!” Eddie shouted as he slammed his palms on the wood in front of you, making you jump again. He and Steve both chuckled as he sauntered away, back to his friend.

“She commented on the fact that Carol lacks any kind of an ass and then followed that up with the word ‘bitch’.”

“Ooooh, you bad girl. You’re not wrong. That evil little person has nothing behind her. I prefer a girl who has some extra umph you know? Plus, their pussy always tastes the sweetest.”

You exhaled shakily at his words, having only heard or read them in stories. You definitely weren’t a virgin. You had been with men and had boyfriends but none of them ever spoke like Eddie had. They were always extremely shy type guys who had no idea what they were doing on top of you.

“Mr. Munson!” The teacher came back, sighing with his hands in the air. “Really?”

“Sorry, Mr. C. I had a question for the pretty girl but she doesn’t seem to be capable of speech.”

“I don’t blame her when it comes to you.”

################

The next day, you became more aware of Eddie and Steve’s presences. You didn’t realize you actually had a couple of classes with Steve and lunch with both he and Eddie. The metalhead’s eyes watched you walk past the Hellfire club table as you tried to ignore him and the other boy constantly turned to glace at you as he ate with his friends.

At the end of the day, you filed into the detention room, surprised to find both boys already there and seated in the front row, much closer to you than they were yesterday.

“Ok troublemakers, collect your things, we are headed to the theater room.”

“I believe thespians refer to it as an auditorium, sir.” Eddie replied in a comical voice that made you smile but only Steve caught it.

“Yeah whatever. I don’t care. Just paint and behave. I’ll be right back there watching so no funny business.”

“Can we talk, Warden or is that still a no-no?”

“Yes, Mr. Munson. You can speak as long as you paint.”

You descend to your knees and they both follow suit. Steve reaches over for the paintbrushes but as he leans over towards you, he lifts it out of your grasp and hands it to his friend.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want something? You gotta ask for it.”, he smiled over at you as he waited. “No? Ok then.”

“Please.”

They froze as he sat back to look you over. “Please what?” He laughs as your face scrunches in disgust. “I don’t know what you want unless you ask me for it.”

“Please, Steve…can I have a brush?”

He nods as he passes it to you and you immediately duck down again to focus on the task in front of you.

“Your voice is pretty. You should talk more.” Eddie’s eyes remained on the board as he painted.

“It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk. She just doesn’t want to talk to us.”

You don’t know why but hearing Steve say it like that made you feel bad. It wasn’t exactly that you didn’t WANT to. You just didn’t trust or know them. King Steve was close friends with the people that tortured you daily and Eddie was the resident bad boy your parents warned you to stay away from. They both intimated you greatly not just because of their air of dominance but because you wanted them to wield it on you.

You wanted them to use you until you or they couldn’t take it anymore and that scared the hell out of you. You were so inexperienced when it came this stuff plus…how do you explain that to someone? Shouldn’t you want to be wined and dined? Yes, you did. You absolutely did but you wanted to be fucked senseless first.

“I do want to talk to you.”

“Then why don’t you?”, Eddie asked.

“You scare me.”

“Well, shit, sweetheart. I’m not a fucking devil worshipper like these asshole people think.”

“It’s not just you and that’s not why.”

“I’ve never made fun of you, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey. She has a name! Steve, you should have told me.”

“Yeah, you never made fun of me but you never stopped them either. You laughed along with them while they picked on me and degraded me in front of the entire school. You’re just as much an asshole as they are.”

“Y/N!”, the teacher hollers from his seat. “As much as I am enjoying watching you tear the king of Hawkins high a new one, I don’t see much painting happening.”

Blinking, you shut your mouth and begin moving the brush again.

“If you ever talk to me like that again, I don’t care where we are or who is in the room, I will throw you over my knee and punish you. Do you understand me?” You turn to look him, finding his angry eyes penetrating yours. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Steve, come on.” Eddie rolls onto his back as he stares up you. “She doesn’t play like that. Do you? Probably still a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin.”

“I see. Ok, not a virgin but definitely not a hardcore kind of girl, right? You like the missionary, vanilla, candles by the bed, listening to slow 70s tunes. Am I right?”

“You don’t know me. Jesus, no wonder you two are friends.”

“Oh wow, Eds. Look at her. No, she doesn’t like that at all. I mean, on some nights yeah, but you prefer being told to shut the fuck up and do as your told.”

“N-n-no. I don’t.”

Your answer makes them giggle. “I would not have pictured that. You like being used?”

“Edward Munson! I swear to God. If I have yell at you guys one more time, we are going back to the classroom to sit silently.”

As detention came to a close, the teacher asked if you wouldn’t mind staying a little later to put everything away. You agreed especially since he told the guys they could leave. You needed that space away from them.

When Steve scolded you, you felt your panties dampen but you meant what you said. He never did anything to keep the popular kids from picking on you. You saw him laugh with them multiple times. Thinking about Eddie asking if you liked being used, had your pussy clenching around nothing as you rubbed your thighs together. You didn’t know enough about him to really form an opinion. The town talked about him a lot and his club he had at school but you two never crossed paths.

You kept thinking about them as you collected your things and headed down the hallway to leave for the day. Suddenly, a hand covered your mouth as arms lifted you by your waist into a nearby open classroom.

“Hey, sweetheart. Steve and I wanted us to finish our conversation. Now that that asshole isn’t here, we can!” Your eyes widen as you listen to Eddie speak. His tone light but there’s a strength behind it that frightens (and excites) you. “Now, where did we leave off? Ah, yes. You were just about to tell us if you liked being used.”

Steve lifted his palm from your lips, resting it gently against your throat. “Please.”

“Nope. We already had that discussion. You have to say what you want to get it.” Eddie sighs as you push back against the man behind you and he quickly tightens his grip on your neck. “Sweetheart, give me a word. Any word you feel like you’ll remember in any…overwhelming situation.” His eyes seductively raked along your body.

“Vanilla.” You aren’t sure why that’s the first word that came to mind but it was the only thing you could think of as Steve loosened his grip and your head fell back against him.

“If there’s one thing you are not, baby, it’s vanilla but… that’s fine. If at ANY point during our little talk here you feel unsafe or you want to stop just say that word. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand.”

He steps forward, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Good girl.” His fingers trailed down to your shirt, grinning before he roughly ripped it open exposing your bra covered breasts. “Now…I’m only going to ask one more time. Do you…like…being used?”

“I-I-I don’t know. I want t-t-to be.”

His eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“You said you’re not a virgin, right?”, Steve asked and you shook your head.

“Aw, Harrington. What she’s telling us is she’s never been fucked properly. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Eddie, that’s right.”

The metalhead rolls his eyes in frustration and takes a few steps back. Steve flips you around and slams your upper body down against the desk, reaching around to unbutton your pants as he pulls them below your ass. You hear the sound of a lighter being closed before the echo of his palm slapping your skin reverberates through the room.

As a handcuff belt buckle places itself in front of you, the smell of smoke fills the air.

“Sweetheart, this would go a lot smoother if you just listened and did as you were told.” He bent down on his heels so his face was level with your own. “Yes. What?”

“Yes, Eddie, I’ve never been fucked properly.”

“That’s better.”

Steve’s hand moves to hold your face flat to the wood and your arms reach to claw in front of you. You whine as he spanks you again. “Stop moving!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…” Your apology trails off as the tears start to fall down your cheeks.

Eddie balances the cigarette between his fingers as he runs his thumb under your eye. The gesture was sweet in contrast and he noticed you begin to settle. His eyes flicked above you and a few moments pass before Steve slides his hand off your head to between your shoulder blades.

“You said you were afraid of us. Why?”

When you don’t immediately answer he sighs and the other boy delivers two hard slaps to your bottom. Instead of pushing back or fighting underneath the weight of his palm holding you down, you laid still, accepting it. The only movements you made were with your face as you winced at the feeling.

“Why?”, he repeats.

“Be-be-because of… how you m-m-make me feel.”, you whisper.

“Did you hear that, Stevie?”, Eddie smirked up at him.

“Just barely but yeah. Y/N, I was there when you shouted at Carol, remember? I know you can speak louder than that.”

Your face scrunched at his words and the metalhead held his chest as he laughed. “It kills you doesn’t it, princess? To both hate someone AND want them at the same time.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted as Steve tugged on your shirt and adjusted you so you were facing him again. “You hate me, Y/N?”

When you took too long, his fingers pinched your cheeks roughly as he tilted forward till his nose was touching yours. “I asked you a question. You fucking answer! Do you hate me?!”

“Yes! You fucking asshole! I hate you!” You defiantly glared at him as you screamed at him.

“His friends kind of suck. They don’t even know about me. Do they, Harrington?” Eddie snuffed out his cigarette, tossing the butt in the garbage. “I mean it’s fine. I don’t care. What I do find fascinating through is this electricity between you two even though you both hate each other.”

“I don’t hate her.” Your eyelids fluttered at his admission. Why did you torture you with his friends if it wasn’t because he didn’t like you? “If I hated her, I wouldn’t want to make her cum right now.”

Eddie pressed himself to your side as his lips hovered over your ear. “Has anyone ever made you cum before?”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from Steves and you didn’t even both trying. “No. No one has ever made cum.”

“Good girl. See? She’s learning. I knew you were smart.” Eddie’s palm slid along your shoulder, bringing your bra strap down your arm. His fingers, almost delicately, freed one of your breasts from its confine and you panted out a silent moan as the pad of his thumb grazed your nipple.

“Do you want Steve here to make you cum?”

You couldn’t help it. Your hand wrapped around the back of the other boy’s neck as you brought his lips to yours. The first thing you noticed was how delicious he tasted. You felt like you could orgasm just from this alone. His hands remained still against your hips except for the little twitch of his fingers when your mouths connected.

Your bliss was short lived as a hand abruptly clung to your neck and violently shoved your back flat to the desk.

“Did I ask you if you wanted to fucking kiss him?!” You trembled as Eddie angrily shouted in your face. His gripped tightened against your neck for a brief moment before he let go and you turned to the side as you gasped for air.

“Munson.” The metalhead glanced at Steve realizing quickly the man was gone. His eyes were black with lust and need, practically hyperventilating as his hands dug into your meaty hips. “Jesus fucking Christ. Fine. She said she wanted to be used. I guess we’re doing it this way since someone can’t fucking listen.”

Steve hastily unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants just enough to free his cock before spitting in his hand and stroking it along his length. You gasped as he breached your entrance, giving you no time to adjust to the size of him as he stretched you open. He was much bigger than anyone you had every been with and you cried out as you reached out into the air, grazing your hand along Eddie’s shirt as you grabbed the fabric.

“How does she feel, Harrington?”

The man’s grunts filled the room as he slammed his hips into yours. “So, fucking tight. My god.” He slowed his pace as he craned his neck to watch between your legs as his dick disappeared inside of you.

As you continued to moan, you focused on Eddie as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his own cock, pumping it with his fist. “Open your mouth, princess.” You did as you were told as his fingers tangled in your hair, pushing you lips to length. “Good girl. Fuck me…” His teeth bit into his bottom lip as he slowly thrust hips.

The feeling of you moaning around him causes him to wipe his head towards Steve, watching as the boy pressed rapid circles into your clit. With both of them inside of you, you were quickly hurtling toward that ledge.

“Yes, pretty girl. Take it. Fuck…your mouth feels amazing.”

Both boys thrust into at a fast pace, Steve slamming his hips into yours so hard the desk underneath you began to shake. You started to gag and gurgle around Eddie’s cock.

“Wh-what, baby? You gonna cum? That’s right. Just let go and feel it.”

He pulled himself out from between your lips, continuing to pump himself as he watched you. Your body shook as your back arched and you came.

Steve murmured obscenities under his breath as your pussy clenched around him.

“God damn. That was so fucking sexy.” The metalhead shoved his cock back into your mouth as they both chased their highs.

Steve came first, pulling out of you just as he released ropes of his seed on to your stomach. Eddie soon followed, holding your head in his firm grip as he came down your throat.

You laid flat against the desk, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath. As you heard them pull up their pants, you half expected them to leave you there having got what they wanted but were startled when you felt a napkin being run along your stomach.

“Geez. Always so jumpy.” Eddie gripped your arm as he helped you sit up so he could adjust your bra and shirt. “Shit.” You followed his eyes realizing what he did; that when he tore open your shirt a lot of the buttons flew off with it. On impulse you covered your chest with your arms as you tried thinking of excuses to give your mom when you got home.

While his face furrowed in thought, Steve lifted you off the desk and guided your pants up your legs before buttoning them back up.

“I got it.”, the metalhead snapped his fingers as he tugged his shirt over his head. Gently, he removed your blouse, handing it the other boy before throwing his own over your head. He smiled in triumph at himself as he walked around you both towards the student desks and put on his leather jacket.

“Do you drive here or…?”, Steve asked.

“Yeah, my car is out front.”

“Good. Come on. We’ll walk with you.”

As they started to head for the door, you reached for Eddie’s arm, turning him around, and yanked him to your body as you leaned up to kiss him. It startled him at first but after moment he keened into it as his hands cupped your cheeks. He definitely tasted different than Steve but you still wanted more. You could kiss him all night if he let you.

After pulling away, you pushed past them and headed for the parking lot, feeling their eyes watch you as they followed. When you guys got to the parking lot, you were thankful for the slight breeze as it cooled your still somewhat sweaty skin.

There were only three cars remaining; yours, the BMW you assumed was Steve’s, and Eddie’s van. Steve reached across you, cutting you off as he opened the vehicle door for you. You paused for a moment before turning to look at them. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but the soft eyes that looked back at you were completely different than what you had experienced these last two days.

You wanted to say something but weren’t sure what. Thankfully, they understood as Eddie stepped forward, placing his hand on your shoulder as he guided you into your car.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

#################

@sidthedollface2 @luna-munson83 @devilinthepalemoonlite @corrodedcorpses

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