#he agreed that while the songs were a bop

[adrift-in-thyme]

My brother listened to the thunder saga today and immediately ran over to ask me if that’s how things went down in the Odyssey

[voitier]

M.P.S - JJK

"Jungkook had a big problem. A serious one, too, at that. He was utterly, desperately obsessed with his roommate. You."

GENRE: oneshot

RATING: 18+

CONTAINS: masturbation (m&f), squirting, spying, stealing, teasing, getting caught, jk isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is, oc loves to play him as she pleases, alcohol, drunkness, obsession, underwear used in improper ways (?)

WORDCOUNT: 2k

TAGLIST: @jeeykey @songbyeonkim @yunhoswrldddd

Divider by @cafekitsune

Jungkook had a big problem.

A serious one, too, at that.

He was utterly, desperately obsessed with his roommate.

You.

You drove him absolutely insane while doing nothing at all to do so, had him gushing over you like a little kid with his first crush, turned him into putty with your words, even though he would never admit or show you that.

At first, he didn't even mind it too much attention. He told himself it was a little infatuation, nothing more nothing less, and it would go away with time, like it usually happened.

That was almost a year ago, though, and it did not go away. If anything, it only got worse.

As time went on, it came to a point where his obsession turned primal, raw, sexual. Slowly, his little crush transformed into a carnal desire he ached to have his hands on. He didn't just want to have his way with you, he itched to worship you the same ways preachers worship their gods. Cause that's what you were to his eyes, a goddess who had blessed him with your presence. And he strived to know what his goddess tasted like, what she sounded like.

He didn’t truly realize how bad he craved you until one particular day of april. Usually, you two would split the house chores and every new season you two would “exchange” chores: you spent all winter taking care of laundry, now it was his time to take care of it. The only boundary you two had agreed on in regards? Underwear needed to be taken care of by its rightful owner. Everything else was “public dominion”.

That day, though, something shifted in him.

“If this world were mine” he hummed freely alongside the song blasting from his headphones, luther (with sza), occasionally bopping his head to the beat while he folded the warm, soft towels, picking them straight from the dryer. You had gone out a few hours prior, grumbling about how much you hated your professor and their incapacity at doing their job. Jungkook smiled amused at your rant, having memorised it word by word as it never faltered, before turning around in his bed and snoozing off for a couple hours more.

“This world, concrete flowers grow, heartache, she only doin’ what–” he stopped singing briefly as he picked up another towel, catching the sight of a white cloth falling to the ground with the cornerof his eye. He bent down, not even watching where his hand was going, his eyes still fixed on the screen of his phone where the lyrics of the song changed every second.

He felt the light texture of the cloth under his fingertips, grazing it softly before bringing it up without too much thought. When he finally turned to look at it, he froze on the spot.

What he had grabbed so carelessly wasn't a normal cloth– it wasn't a cloth at all. Between his fingers, he had the delicate white fabric of your panties, which he must have accidentally thrown into the washer earlier on.

His fingers caressed the fabric gently, hypnotised by something so innocent yet so sinful in his eyes. He ran his thumb over the part where your lips would be, imagining how many times you had touched yourself right in this pair of pure white panties, soaking them in your arousal. His cock twitched at the thought, slowly getting stiffer in his sweatpants, but before he knew it the door of the entryway opened with a click, followed by your loud groan.

He gasped softly, bunching up the fabric in his pocket before darting for his room, closing it behind him as silently as possible, not wanting to draw any attention right now.

He relaxed against the door, exhaling a breath of relief as he heard you marching towards your room, slamming the door shut. His cock twitched again in his pants, begging for attention. His hand reached inside his pocket, fingers trembling as they found the soft, fresh fabric. He pulled them out slowly, bringing them to eye-level.

He exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding, his body still alert yet calmer now that he was hiding behind a closed door.

That day, Jungkook spent the whole day locked in his room, fisting his cock furiously while he held the clean pair of panties up to his face, his nose, wrapping them around his flushed red tip, until he had eventually milked himself dry, nothing else left in his spent body.

After that, he had a hard time looking at you in the eyes, and he spent approximately one week avoiding you as best as possible. He couldn't help but feel ashamed and guilty, yet, that wasn't the only time he had stolen something of yours.

That first accident only opened to his lustful mind the opportunity to steal more of your panties, trying to be sneaky about it, only taking one every once in a while. And while he thought he had mastered the art of theft, he didn't even suspect that you had noticed your panties progressively missing, catching the glimpse of your flimsy underwear peeking through the back pocket of his jeans once as he headed back to his room from the laundry room.

He didn't need to know, though.

Some things are better kept private.

You hated men.

Hated how entitled they can get, how stupid, incompetent and useless they are. Most importantly, you hated how much they turn you on, how they can play with you easily before you’re drenched and ready for them, despite all their flaws.

It’s during times like this that you have to remind yourself why the sentence “sexuality isn’t something we choose” is so fucking true to begin with.

You slam the door shut behind you, trying to be as silent as possible as you take off your high heels from your aching feet, accidentally knocking over the umbrella holder by the door. Maybe trying to be sneaky while drunk wasn’t the most intelligent thing you tried to do, but you really didn’t want to wake up your roommate at 3 a.m., especially not now that you had to take care of the tension in your body left unsatisfied by a guy you met at the bar you had spent the night at.

You groan frustrated at the aching throb between your legs, tiptoeing towards the shared bathroom quickly. You push the door closed behind you, switching the light on. Your eyes squint shut, the blinding light sending a wave of pain to your drunken mind, forcing you to sit on the edge of the bathtub for a few moments to recover.

Chills rise on your exposed skin at the cold feeling of the marble kissing your legs, yet it doesn't cool down the fire cursing through your needy body. You can’t help but let a hand travel south between your legs, pulling the fabric of your dress up until it leaves your lower body exposed to the cold room. You shudder, looking down to see a wet patch already soaking your black thong.

In your mind you silently curse the guy from the bar, thinking about the fact that you could have been entangled with his body in his sheets, body arching from pleasure, but instead you had to resort to your own fingers hidden in your bathroom while being silent to not wake up your sleeping roommate.

Your hips jerk once your fingers find your clothed clit, rubbing with featherlike pressure tight circles on your sensitive bud. A soft sigh escapes your lips, shoulders dropping in relaxation as the tension you had endured the past few hours starts leaving your body.

Your eyes close shut, head dropping back as you pull your panties to the side, running a finger through your folds to collect the wetness pooling before pushing it inside you, feeling your walls stretch pleasantly to welcome you in.

Slowly, you start to move your finger in and out your leaking hole, warming up before adding another finger in, curling them just right to hit that spot that has your body jerking in response. Your thumb finds your clit once again, rubbing it softly while you keep fucking yourself.

Your other hand grabs the edge of the bathtub, sliding off it before landing with your butt on the ground and your back slumped against the white marble, fingers still working lazily between your shaky thighs. Sweat glistens on your forehead, brows scrunched in concentration as the band inside you feels ready to snap any moment now, finally relieving your needs.

Soft gasps and moans fill the bathroom, and the wet squelches that echo in the room do nothing to hide what was happening behind the closed door. You pray that Jungkook is still snoring annoyingly in his room, blissfully oblivious to what was happening just down the hall. Just this one time.

Jungkook was, in fact, not oblivious at all to what was happening in the other room.

He had heard you knock over something in the entryway, the bang echoing so hard around the silent house that the whole apartment had probably heard you and woken up. You also weren’t silent at all while heading towards the bathroom, feet dragging to the floor like it physically pained you to lift them off the ground.

Anyway, he didn’t pay any mind to your failed attempts of silence, turning around in bed and dozing off to sleep again. What did catch his attention, though, came a few minutes later, right in the moment when reality and sleep collide in an intricate embrace where it’s not clear if you’re more awake or asleep yet.

A soft sound, coming from the bathroom, followed by another one.

Immediately he was off the bed and on his feet, padding towards the room he knew you were in to check up on you, worrying that the alcohol was making you feel sick and too weak to call for help.

He stopped right in front of the door, peeking through the little space you had left open unknowingly. You weren’t by the sink, that he could see clearly, nor by the toilet. Another gasp came from inside, followed by a broken “fuck” whispered to the air. Only in that moment his sleep drunk brain registered what was probably going on, but it was too late anyway, he had already pushed the door open a tad bit.

And there you were in all your half naked glory looking like an absolute wreck, body arching off the floor as your fingers pumped in and out of you at increasing speed, your orgasm clearly building quickly by the second. Jungkook gulped, hand squeezing the door to keep his body up as his eyes ran up and down your body shamelessly: head thrown back over the edge of the bathtub, eyes closed and lips parted in pleasure, your black dress crumpled and bunched around your waist that gave him the perfect view of your black thong messily pulled to the side to allow your fingers to work their magic, knowing exactly what felt good and what didn’t, thrusting and curling and stroking until your muscles spasmed repeatedly, body lifting briefly from the ground as you moaned loudly. A gush of clear fluids came spraying out of you, soaking your hand, your thighs, the pavement, even your thong. Jungkook’s eyes zeroed on it, quickly thinking of a way to have his hands on it before you could wash it.

His eyes scanned the room frantically while you recovered from the orgasm that had left you a whimpering and shaky mess, making it even harder for Jungkook to focus on his mission. He couldn’t get distracted, though, not when the prize was so damn high. Not when the mere thought had him squeeze his cock through his pants to relieve the throbbing, mouth watering as he imagined how good it would feel to have it in his hands.

His eyes fell to the two baskets under the sink, the ones where you two put your dirty clothes that had to be washed: one for you, one for him. He almost prayed out loud that you would throw the piece of garment in the basket, so that he could sneak in and take it with no problem whatsoever.

He was so focused on his little mission that he hadn’t even noticed your hands reaching for the hem of your dress, pulling it up and over your body then throwing it in said basket. He had to bite his lip in an attempt to not gasp as his gaze immediately snapped back to your oblivious figure now only covered by the skimpy thong, turned around and bent over the bathtub as you waited for the water to become warm before getting in.

“If I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me up,” he thought, feeling his briefs getting wetter by the second at the view of your perfect body now bent over in front of his own eyes. Images of him fucking you dumb right there flashed in his mind, clouding his senses with the hazy haste of lust.

His breath catches in his throat as he watches your fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and mindlessly throwing them away before getting in the bathtub, closing the curtains all around you.

Perfect.

He pushed the door open slowly, hoping it wouldn’t creak all of a sudden. Each step he took was precise, well thought, measured in pace and weight. He kind of felt like a ninja, or a thief trying to break into a bank to steal all the money stored. Except, his prize was worth more than a bank would ever offer to him, and way more rare, too.

His fingers reached for the fabric, wrapping around it before snatching it off the ground, quickly retreating back to his room all giddy and over the top. He didn’t even pay attention to the sound of his door locking behind his back, too caught up in his mind to notice it.

But you did. And you smirked, satisfied as you realized something.

The little mouse had fallen right into your trap.

Perfect.

© voitier 2025

other works here

[inspiredangel]

how did heartless!chris and reader meet?

heartless!chris && you meet for the first time.

His frat was having their annual begining of the school year party, they had every year. your friend had invited you, and at first you weren´t really sure if you should even go, but you decided, why not? it was the begining of the year and you wanted to 'let loose' a little before classes started.

You got all dressed up, with a pretty little dress, and headed over to the party. Once you got there, there were hundreds of people almost, the backyard and front yard filled with empty red solo cups, and empty beer bottles, the music could be heard from down the street. It was insane.

As you looked around, trying to spot any familiar faces, you met eyes with him. Christopher sturniolo, the man whore of the campus, and he was finer than you imagined. His gaze dropped down to your body, taking in every inch. Then he met eyes with you again, and he smirked before looking away, and talking to his friend again, as if nothing happened.

After you had walked away, he nudged his friend "Who´s that?" he said nodding his head towards you. His friend; nate shrugged and shook his had "No clue, man." he said before going back to yapping about whatever he was talking about before.

While you made your way through the crowd of people, and a bunch of couples making out─you headed over to the kitchen, where the drinks were, got yourself a red solo cup, but before you could actually pour yourself anything, someone interrupted you.

"This is good shit." a sudden voice called out, pointing towards the clear glass bowl, with a weird blue substance in it.

You looked over, and met eyes with chris, once again. you furrowed your eyebrows "What is it?" you asked with a disgusted face. He chuckled "I have no idea, but it´s really good." he said as he poured himself another cup and took sip.

Your eyes narrowed, what if there was some weird thing in it, and you got really sick after? "yeah.. no thanks." you chuckled nervously, reaching for a beer in the cooler and pouring it in your cup, he scoffed "Basic." he teased with that snarky smirk on his face.

He took another sip, eyeing you as you took a sip of yours aswell. The way your lips wrapped around the brim of the cup was turning him on, even if it was just a normal gesture. He just couldn´t help his mind from wandering.

"I´m not basic." you shrugged "Just don´t wanna get posinoned." you said, turning around to face him, met with his smirk once again. He nodded "Right, right." he said quietly.

He put his cup down "This music´s good." he said bopping his head to the beat, you nodded with a smile "Yeah." you agreed "C´mon. Let´s dance." he suggested. You furrowed your eyebrows and chuckled "I don´t even know you." he smiled at that "Yeah, but you will soon." he shrugged, as he took your hand and headed towards the crowd filled with people dancing.

Immediately you regretted every decision that led up to this "this isn´t really my scene─" "C´mon!" he cut you off "Just dance or something." he shrugged with an adorable little giggle.

You bit your lip and shook your head, he huffed and rolled his eyes, taking your hand, and turning you around, your back facing him as he put his hand on your hips and swayed you around "Just feel the beat." you said in your ear. You let out a sigh, and did as he said, moving your hips along the music.

He smiled "There you go!" he said in a cheerful tone. Keeping his hands grounded on your hips as he moved slightly closer to you. You both just kept dancing along to whatever music played for the rest of the night. You had never even met him before, sure, you´ve heard plenty of stories about him; mostly bad ones. But that wasn´t your concern right now.

All you cared about at the moment was him, and this stupid song you two were dancing too, and letting loose for the night, letting all your worries slip away.

©ALLMYLOVC all rights reserved.

⊹ yap  — YAY! this may be the only time i write a blurb with heartless!chris that doesn´t involve him being lowkey a bitch & manipulative liar🙃 & thank you to this amazing anon for the request! also i apologize if there are any misspelled words, or if my grammar is bad. english is not my first language.

tags: @marrykisskilled @chrislilcumslvt @sosasturns @cyberskulzzz @slut4chris888 @waitforyrlove @zebonos @sturnioloangell @slctsblogana @anyaa2s @emely9274 @shadowthesim @frankoceanfanpage @mrsarnold @freshloveee @t0riiiis @jetaimevous @sturn777 @sturniologirlzz @venusbabysblog @ch6rm @sturniolossss @mattsbrowser @sturnlsstuff @chrissweetheart

[joostsblog]

I love love loveee your writing for Joost!!

Could you do a longer one shot, where Joost is playing the reader his album (preferably Fryslân) with Florida 2009, a she comforts him? Would be amazing <3

Leyla, write one fic as it was requested challenge, level impossible 😅 so I altered your request to be about Liverpool bc I didn't think I could do it justice with florida 2009 being such a personal song, I hope you understand ❣️

Liverpool ~ Joost Klein oneshot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: Your boyfriend Joost shows you his new album and the end of Liverpool holds a little surprise for you which will change your relationship forever.

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: Here I am still writing something while I said I wouldn't do so on vacation lol ☀️ if you liked it, you can show your support by leaving a reblog 🫶

Warnings: not proofread

"I think I'm ready," Joost stood in the doorway of your shared apartment.

You looked up from your phone and your face lit up as you knew what this meant. Joost was a perfectionist and avoided showing you rough mixes of his songs because he wanted you to experience them as they were intended - perfectly finished. He had only shown you two finished songs from the album he was working on and now he was finally ready to play the album front to back for you.

"Are you sure?" you asked as you got up from the sofa and walked towards him. He nodded and you could tell that he was nervous. "I'm sure it's gonna be amazing," you said and gave a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Don't sing your praises too early," he laughed.

You sat down in his makeshift home studio and he handed you a pair of headphones, putting some on as well. You put your hand on his knee as he was looking up the files on his computer. Just as he was about to press play, he looked at you again.

"I'm not sure I should even look at you," he laughed nervously. You gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"Do whatever feels comfortable to you," you said with a smile. "I'm gonna love it."

Joost nodded took your hand into his and pressed play. Before you closed your eyes to focus on the music you gave a quick peck to Joost's cheek.

As you were listening through the album, you bopped your head along, smiled and noticed all the shy glances Joost was giving you to check for your reaction. You were right, you did love it. As the last song Liverpool slowly came to its end, you could tell that Joost was watching your face very intently now. The song ended with a series of shout-outs to Joost's friends and collaborators, which warmed your heart.

Shouts-out to Tantu Beats

Shout-out to Joost Klein

Shout-out to Dylan meine brudi

Shouts-out Stuntje shouts-out Wim Hof

Shout-out to Jack Parow out in South Africa

Shouts-out to Apson

Shouts-out Nathan Vandergunst

Damn, shouts-out Enzo Knol

Shout-out to (Y/N)

Shout-out you for listening to my album

I fucking love you man

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard your name appear in the song and your eyes immediately began to water.

You and Joost had both agreed pretty early on in your relationship to keep it private. No one knew that Joost was in a committed relationship and especially no one (except for your friends and family) knew that the person he loved was you. It was the right decision at the time because it allowed you to love and live in private without any unwanted attention. But the longer you had been with Joost, the more the both of you had talked about wanting to actually express your love for each other publicly as well. You just didn't expect that Joost was ready for a step like this - putting your name in one of his songs.

As the song finished you both put your headphones down. Your eyes were still welling with tears and your smile was wide.

"I can take it out if you want to," Joost offered hesitantly and you shook your head no immediately.

"No, please keep it," you said and cupped his face with your hands. "I love it," you said before kissing his soft lips which curved into a grin.

It didn't take long for fans to pick up on your name in Liverpool after the album dropped. Fans took to Twitter, TikTok and Tumblr to voice their opinions of the album and also their confusion about that unknown name.

"Who tf is (Y/N)?"

"IKR? I swear I've never heard that name before"

"Maybe she's his manager???"

"I doubt it, why would he thank her last after all of his friends?"

"Wait, let me check something, I think I've seen her Instagram account before!!"

To your surprise, it also didn't take long before fans found your Instagram account with just a few hundred followers just because you appeared on Joost's follow list and he commented on your posts frequently. There were no pictures of the two together on your account but through puzzling together locations and outfits, some fans quickly found out that you spend a lot of time together.

The follows, likes and comments slowly came flooding in and you realised that your relationship wasn't so private anymore. But even the few nasty comments didn't make you regret your decision.

So when a few days passed and the comments persisted ("is she Joost's gf?") you decided to upload a picture to your story.

the cat's out the bag, you captioned a picture of you happily cuddling with a cat in your arms, another hand also visible stroking the cat. A hand with a 1983 tattoo.

[astraystayyh]

If the world was ending

Felix x reader. Estranged childhood best friends to lovers. Angst and happy ending. highly recommend listening to If the world was ending while reading :)

Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old, until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.

cw: description of a car accident, reader has a fear of loud noises.

skz song series masterlist

12 march 2011 

Screeching brakes, a jarring collision, glass shattering all around you, shards of it embedding into your tender skin. You are too young to understand it all, but you know it's bad. You are suddenly upside down, the only thing helping you stay put is the seatbelt fastened around you. You didn't really like seatbelts but your mom always insisted on you wearing one.

Your mom, you can't see her face, she's upside down too, and she isn't talking. That's unusual because you're crying and she isn't turning around to comfort you. Someone is screaming outside of your car, and then you are pulled out. You don't know who's touching you, and you want them to stop. Where is your mom? Why did they not pull her out too?

An ambulance approaches you; its loud sirens feel like pine needles drilling into your skull. You try to cover your ears but your hands are covered in blood. The world around you is painted red- the flashing lights of the sirens and the liquid oozing from your cuts. It’s no longer your favorite color.

27 may 2011 

You are playing in the playground near your home, waving at your mom from the top of the slide. She's gotten better, she smiles more easily at you now. And you are trying to be a good kid too; you help wash the dishes and you clean your room all by yourself. You don't want your mom to feel sad again and go back to that dreaded hospital. 

You slide out, happy giggles leaving your mouth, before climbing up the tiny stairs once again. But as you reach the top, an ambulance rushes by the playground. You don't know what's happening, but you suddenly feel shards of glass on your skin once again. Your hands are shaking as you sit on the floor, curling around yourself in a ball.  

"What's wrong?" someone asks and you lift your head tentatively. It's a young boy, he's looking at you worriedly, a tiny pout on his lips. 

"I don't like ambulances," you hiccup, burying your head in your knees again. 

Suddenly, small hands cover your ears, muffling the shrill sound of sirens. They are warm and sticky from the red popsicle he’s still holding.

"Now you can't hear them," he giggles, his eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Despite your raging fear, a smile finds its way into your lips.

"What's those on your face," you ask with a small voice, pointing at the faint marks dusting his cheeks. 

"They're called freckles," he says proudly and you nod. 

"They're pretty."

"Thank you!" he grins at you, his hands still covering your ears. The tightness in your chest seems to dissipate slowly before his kind smile- the shadows never stood a chance in front of the sun. 

"What's your name?" 

"Felix. And you?"

"Yn." 

"We should be friends," he beams and you grin back, agreeing wholeheartedly. "We should." 

15 november 2021 

You are sitting on the grass of that very same playground, Felix still by your side. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against your bodies, and you're wearing his red sweater. It smells like his cologne and your perfume- an intoxicating scent you've come to memorize by heart. 

His nose tip is rosy from the cold, and you can't resist tapping it playfully. "Your nose is pink," you giggle, and he smiles, gently bopping yours in return. 

"So is yours."

You look at him as he gazes up at the stars above. You love Felix, it has always been crystal clear to you. From the moment he planted the seed of his friendship into your soul, and throughout the years when it bloomed into something more, bigger than the two of you. It wrapped around your being entirely, binding itself into your every atom, until all you saw is his reflection in you. 

And you were tired of treading the line between friendship and something more. You wanted, no craved being with him, your yearning so intense it spilled from you each time he was around. In rosy cheeks and shaky fingers and eyes that soften only when they rest on him- evidence of your love imprinted all upon you. 

You take in a deep breath, before laying your hand gently on his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. His eyes widen slightly at the soft touch, and you lean in closer to him. You brush your nose against his, slowly, "to warm it up," you whisper, as his breath hitches in his throat. 

He's close, he's so close, you can almost taste the brownies you shared earlier on his lips. You can see his freckles ever so clearly, constellations you often find yourself getting lost in. Your hand is still on his cheek, and you can feel it burning up under your palm. 

You close your eyes, as his lips are now just a breath away from yours. It's electrifying- having him so near to the way you've always dreamed, fantasized about. But he needs to be the one to take the jump, all he has to do is lean in a bit, and you'd kiss him. You won't ever let go. 

"Lixie...," you choke out, "kiss me." 

"I want to." His voice is hoarse with emotion, as if fighting with himself for self-restraint. 

"So do it," you ask, swiping your thumb gently across his cheek. Your breaths mingle with one another in a dizzying dance. 

"I'm leaving," he says so faintly, you believe for a second that you've imagined it. 

"What?" you ask, leaning a bit away to be able to look at him. 

"I'm leaving," he repeats, his eyes tightly shut. "We're moving to another country, for my dad's job." 

"You're leaving me?" you ask, bewildered. 

"I'm not leaving you-"

"But you are. You won't be here anymore." You drop your hand, taking hurried steps away from him. Touching him didn't feel electrifying anymore, it felt horrible and nauseous, because you won't get to do it again. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to-" 

"How long have you known?" 

"Yn..."

"Felix," you say, tone stern. "How long?" 

"Six months," he whispers and a bitter chuckle escapes your lips.

"When are you leaving?"

"In a week." 

The pain becomes unbearable, and you turn your back to him so he wouldn't see your rapidly falling tears. You are angry, as a disguise for the sadness threatening to drown you. Him leaving tasted like the salty water you gulp when you dive in too quickly into the ocean. And you did dive in, in him, in his soul and everything that made up Felix. And now he was leaving you, with no anchor to help you float again.

"Is that why you insisted on spending so much time with me lately? Because you were leaving?" 

"You need to understand I didn't know how to tell you, I- I don't even know who I am without you." He pleads, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears, reminding you of tiny diamonds. That's how it is with Felix, you found beauty in everything he did- even tearing your heart in half. 

"Maybe you should've thought of how I would feel. You were thinking of leaving me while I..." Your voice breaks and you take a shaky breath.  "While I was falling in love with you." 

"I'm in love with you too," he quickly says, reaching out to hold your hand. "I love you, I always have." He's wrapping his arms around you, and you're letting him because it feels safe and secure. Because he’s still your Felix, even if he's leaving you behind. 

You wonder what you must have done in a past life, what a horrible person you could've been for the universe to treat you this cruelly. To hand you everything you've ever wanted in a silver platter, and snatch it from your hands before you could dare to grab it. 

"We'll make it work," he mumbles into your hair, placing a tender kiss on your temple. "We'll talk and we can be together."

"No, we can't. I'll just hold you back from living your new life, I can't have that." 

"Don't talk like that, please," his voice wavers, words barely managing to slip out of his mouth. Regret overtakes your body so suddenly at the thought of his lips- you shouldn't have tried to kiss him. Maybe then he wouldn't have told you he was leaving. 

"It's the truth. we'll grow to hate each other, distance will put a strain on us. I'd rather not talk to you than have you resent me." 

"But-"

"Just hold me," you cut him off. "As if nothing's happening, please." 

And he complies because Felix always does. Because he loves you and as much as he doesn't want to, he knows you're right. 

•••••

It's been three months since Felix left- the days passed by agonizingly slowly, and yet the months went by in a blur, a hauntingly vivid reminder of what once was. At first, the texts between you two were frequent, but as time wore on, the messages grew sporadic, from your end, mostly. Seeing him flourish in his new life felt like salt on an open wound, a reminder that he was moving on while you were still anchored in memories of him. 

You saw him in every corner of your city. The smell of brownies that he's made countless times, each time you felt sad. The way he kissed your cheek each time he won a game, while you were lying on his bed, bored. The way he hugged you whenever you were sick, gently tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. The way he covered your ears instinctively at each loud noise, knowing how scared it made you still. 

And you've felt each of these emotions since he was gone. You were sad and bored and sick and happy and scared. And he wasn't here with you through them. Each moment away from Felix seemed to magnify what could have been- what should have been between the two of you.

There is a building construction next to you, loud cement blocks crashing to the ground. And you are curled around yourself in a protective ball, covering your ears with your hands, because Felix isn't here to do it anymore for you. 

You and Felix have grown with one another, your soul carefully woven into his, like two threads intricately stitched into the same tapestry. Him leaving felt like half of your body was cut off from you, and you were left alone to figure out how to function with an incomplete heart. 

17 july 2023 

Summer break meant coming back home and sleeping in your childhood bedroom once again. Memories of Felix still lingered in there- posters he has given you and his red sweater that you've never found the courage to throw away. It doesn't hurt as much to remember him, the sharp pain morphed into a dull ache you've grown accustomed to by now. 

You're watching the TV mindlessly when someone knocks on your door, and you go to open it without a second thought, expecting it to be your parents. It wasn't.

"Felix?" you stammer, stumbling back in shock. You blink repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to make sure he's not a figment of your twisted imagination. You haven't uttered his name in so long, and the syllables felt both foreign and familiar in your mouth. 

"It's me," he smiles sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. 

"You are here," you whisper, stating the obvious. He didn't change much, his kind brown eyes and freckles still as captivating as before. But his features were sharper, prettier, and the sight of him is making you dizzy once again. 

"I am." 

"What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously, opening the door a bit wider to let him in. 

"I requested a transfer to your university. I wanted to come back. I missed home, and I missed you," he adds softly, making a turmoil of emotions surge within you. 

You clear your throat. "So, you are back for good?" 

"I am," he says, smiling slightly at you as if to gauge your reaction. You stay silent and his grin falters; his tongue resting against the inside of his cheek, a habit he hasn't let go of apparently. He then walks to the kitchen and you follow suit. You don't have to show him around, he knows your home like the back of his hand. He spent most of his childhood here after all, even though his house was only a few blocks away. 

"How have you been?" he asks as he opens the cupboard to take out a glass. He closes its door softly, careful not to make it thud. 

"I'm good. It's summer break so I'm finally back home, what about you?"

"I'm good too. It's nice to be back." 

Your conversation is strained and awkward, so unnatural of you both. There was so much to say, so much to ask about, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. He felt like uncharted territory to you now, one you didn't have the strength to discover once again.

"It's your mom's birthday tomorrow, right?" he smiles and you nod. 

"Should we make her our cookies? Like we used to before I..." 

"Before you left," you finish, bitterness dripping from your tone.

Hurt flashes in his eyes and you feel your heart suddenly clench in your chest. It was unfair for you to treat him this way. He was only seventeen and if your parents were to move away you would've followed them too. 

"Okay, let's do it." You smile sincerely for the first time since he came back to you. 

You both move seamlessly in the kitchen, each knowing your tasks like a choreographed dance. This was a tradition that started when you were twelve years old. You'd brown the butter while he beat the egg and sugar together. He'd sift the flour while you cut up chocolate. He'd mix it all while you preheat the oven. And then you'd roll the dough together. 

Your hands brush against one another as you shape up the cookies, and it feels so intense you almost drop to the floor. You miss him, you miss him so much and he's near you and you can't seem to think straight anymore. 

When the cookies are finally in the oven, he silently washes the dishes while you dry them. He abruptly pauses, hands still covered in soap before turning back to you. 

"Can we talk? Please?" he says too quickly as if he's been overthinking asking this question. 

"I'm busy today," you scramble to think of an excuse, you weren't ready to face him yet. 

"Tomorrow?"

"I'm staying with my mom, then there is Han’s party."

"I'll be there too. We can talk then, please?" he asks, eagerness evident in his voice. 

"Fine. Let's talk there," you concede and he nods, awkwardly shifting in his place. He finishes the dishes before drying his hands. You avoid his gaze and he sighs softly. "I'll get going. Tell your mom happy birthday from me." 

"Will do." You smile tightly and he does the same, before finally leaving your home, and in his trail, a maelstrom of emotions you weren't certain how to deal with.

18 july 2023 

You're at the reunion party Han is hosting with all your high school friends. You watch as Felix takes turns talking to everybody. He fits right in here, a puzzle perfectly clicking in place as if he's never left. He's telling a joke to Chan who laughs loudly, hitting Minho's arm repeatedly. Everyone is happy he's back, because they never had to gravel with the consequences of his absence. Because he's never ripped their heart out. 

Felix is looking for you around the room- he hasn't seen you in a while. He assumes you're somewhere around the house, and that you'd like to talk when time has passed. The knot in his stomach tightens as the weight of your conversation dawns on him, he longs to be with you, to undo the past two years he has spent away from you. But he's afraid to mess everything up, once again, so he stays near his friends who are now pulling him outside of the house.

"We have a surprise for you," Han says excitedly before pointing at the sky, "look." 

Fireworks, a dazzling show of blue, red and yellow. And Felix feels as if the colors were drained out of his face and splattered into the night sky before him.

"Where is yn?" he turns to Chan, eyes wide.

"Inside, I think. Why?"

"Stop- stop this, don't start any more fireworks," he urges the boy who's looking at him worriedly. 

"Why, what's wrong? We have a warrant to start them, don't worry."

"No, no you don't understand. Yn hates loud noises," he explains frantically, before bolting inside the house. 

He's yelling your name, and you are nowhere to be found, the sound of the fireworks so loud he isn't even sure you can hear him. 

He opens door after door, and after painstakingly long seconds he finally finds you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, your head buried in your knees. Just like you were twelve years ago. 

Felix doesn't waste any time, kneeling in front of you to cover your ears with his hands, you look up at him, waterline brimming with unshed tears. 

"It's okay, I'm here. Just focus on my voice," he smiles reassuringly at you, and you clasp your hands on top of his, doing your best to muffle the sound of the explosions. 

"Your hands are still small," you attempt to joke, as hot tears trail down your cheeks. You hated how scared you still were. 

"The perfect size to cover your ears," he smiles at you, his eyes softening when they take in your distressed state. 

You hiccup, overcome by a new wave of emotion- for an entirely different reason this time. "You came." 

"I'll always come. Even if the world was ending, I'll... I'll come to you," he smiles, biting his lower lip to stop his own tears from falling. 

"It'd be useless if you came then. There would be nothing for us to do," you manage to say through shaky breaths. 

"But I'd be with you," he insists, gaze unwavering, "It will be scary for you. I imagine it will be loud, the world can't end silently." 

"Mine did, when you left." Felix's eyes go wide at your words, and you don't care that you are baring your soul entirely to him. "Please don't leave me again. I hate goodbyes with you." 

"Why would we ever say goodbye again, hm?" he reassures, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly. "I'm never leaving you, as long as you'll have me, I'm here," he whispers, before pulling you into his chest.

Your hands find his back, and his cheek rests on top of your head. And you both close your eyes, an exhale of relief leaving you both at the same time. The world grows dark around the two of you, the only thing you saw was his heart and the overflowing love he still bore for you.

You felt as if you were wandering blind and you could finally see again, as if the string tying you to him wrapped tightly around the both of you, trapping you in his warm embrace.

You don't know what will happen next, but he's holding you now, and he'll hold you when the world is ending, and that is enough.

[mrsgarciatorres]

SPOOKED || JOAQUIN TORRES

you and joaquin had just gotten out of the movie theatre, seeing the new "talk to me” that had just came out. “holy shit, the toe scene was so freaky,” he laughed out while you just gagged. “ugh, please don’t remind me. i mean that wasn’t the worst part- but definitely on the top three scenes i didn’t like.” you shuddered, “that wasn’t the worst part?” joaquin smiled in disbelief.

“when the guy started sucking on the dogs face? HELLO?” you wave your hands around in the air. “holy shit i almost didn’t make it all through. i can’t believe i didn’t even close my eyes- probably the shock of just watching that scene.” you scrunched your face, that scene highly being stuck in your mind. “maybe we shouldn’t have seen that movie, i think im gonna have nightmares.” you shuddered. “don’t worry,” joaquin wrapped both his arms around you from the side. “i will be right next to you by your side. no lady will be sucking your toes or any of us sucking our dog’s face.” he nodded. “please don’t say that,” you deadpan.

he unlocked the car door on the passenger side, “my lady,” he spoke. “why thank you kind sir,” you bow to him slightly. you got into the dark navy truck as he shut the door behind you, putting on your seat belt. he climbed into the driver’s side, turning on the truck and the stereo blasted both of your ears. “holy shit,” you breathed out, turning down the volume. “i forgot we were jamming out bad.” you laughed. “hell yeah,” joaquin unlocked his phone, putting shuffle on apple music and the song ‘DAKITI’ by bad bunny & JHAYCO started to play. “HELLL YEAH,” he bopped his head, and you went along with him singing.

you both finally got to your shared house, getting out the truck and walking to the front door with joaquin trailing right behind you. “now without music everything’s so scary,” you mumble, a bit sad that the two of you were out of the truck already. “we can put jazz music on if you want,” he considered. you nodded, “on it baby.” he left you to go back into the living room, grabbing a random record and placing it in. "come back to me" by matt monro & nelson riddle started to play. ‘hear my voice…, where you are’ the music starts playing, and you start to get ready for bed.

joaquin was somewhere in the house, probably looking for lucy your little pet dog. “there you are,” he ruffled her black fluffy hair. he armed the house at stay, locking every single door and double checking just for your sake, the windows as well. he strolled in the shared room, leaning on the door as he saw you put your hair up to do your skin care routine while softly humming the melody of the song. “come back to me,” he softly sang, walking your way. “catch a plane, catch a breeze.” he slid in, his socks moving slick like a child sliding down a slide. he did his routine fast, getting out of his clothes and only to be in his underwear with nothing else on other than his military chained necklace. tossed it off onto the side table, getting under neath the sheets.

the bathroom was on your side of the bed, so he watched from afar on his side with much love in his eyes. he was relaxed, while on your hand you were still so terrified of that movie. “baby relax,” joaquin laughed out. you spit your toothpaste out, “oh i’m sorry dear, you agreed to sign up to me being easily so scared of scary movies like that. i just need distraction to let myself relax after one like so.”

he laughed as he dropped his head down, “yes ma’am i know i know. you’re so tense after scary movies.” you turned off the light to the bathroom, closing the door softly. ‘from the hills, from the shore’ the music played lightly in the background now that you and joaquin were talking. “still can’t believe i agreed to even watching a horror movie with you.” you shook your head. “come into bed,” the song had ended. everything finally quiet with a few birds outside your window and lucy panting on the bedroom floor, sprawled out.

“let me distract you,” he whispered, getting on top of you as he went down to kiss you. you kissed back, closing your eyes as he worked his way on you. his left hand on your hip while his other hand propped him up, his hand going up and down on the side of your stomach sending butterflies into it. his lips left yours, as he kissed the down part of your cheek and onto your neck. “joaquin..,” you mumbled out. your eyes opened, but fluttered closed quickly as he sucked a spot that was always so bruised every few days. you moaned lightly, your head throwing back. “fuck,” you whisper. his lips trailed down, but only to be caught onto your silky black pajama collard shirt. he laughed, embarrassed that he had wetted your pajamas. your lips turn into a small smile, as he looked down to you from his spot.

your hands going up to his hair, running through the soft dark black locks. he leaned forward, kissing your lips again and curling up to your side as he placed half his body onto you while you laid on your back as your nails scratched his back softly. “good lord,” he breathed. “i love when you do that. makes me feel like a cat, ready too purr out.” he chuckled. “well i’m glad you like it baby.” you kissed his lips as he looked at you with his chin on the side of your chest. “goodnight,” you whisper, snuggling closer to him. “goodnight amour,” he mumbled. “love you.”

——————————>>

a/n: EEEEE i’m sorry im so in love with danny ramirez it’s not even funny anymore 😭 i need me a man like him 😩 anyways hope you enjoyed this little blurb of joaquin torres! please lmk if you want more fics with him or mickey garcia. (lowkey im about to watch any film he’s ever been in just so i can create more with more characters of his)

[keepingsecretstokeepyoutk]

This is going to be very long and sound a little crazy at first, and maybe a little mean but please hear me out…

I’m convinced that Taylor sometimes purposefully includes one line or multiple lines of poorly written or clunky lyrics in specific songs to make a point.

We all have seen some version of this with bearding songs like London Boy, a simple bop whose lyrics were immediately detected as sounding disingenuous, even with the general population (the locations she was signing about were the most touristy and too far away from each other to visit on the same day, etc, basically implying that she doesn’t actually have a long term local bf there that she spends a bunch of time with exploring the city with, etc).

But just like everything else on the album, I think she’s doing maybe a more in your face version of that. No holds barred.

So High School is an obvious example of this, with all of the early 2000’s hs imagery, she seems pretty blatantly to be mocking the idea the public has of her “living out every American girl’s high school fantasy” of dating the tall popular football player. With lyrics like “touch me while your friends play grand theft auto” (barf), etc, shes being clear enough that this is not a serious song.

This is the possibly controversial part, but I’m so curious to see what others think about this - I think another iteration of this on this album is the title track, The Tortured Poets Department. Hear me out.

(First, I want to reassure you that there are lines in this song that I really like and think are well written, like: “you’re in self-sabotage mode/throwing spikes down on the road” and “but you awaken with dread/pounding nails in your head/but I’ve read this one/where you come undone/I chose this cyclone with you”. And I fully agree with the idea that these sentiments are from Karlie’s perspective. Basically, when you take out the chunks I’m about to talk about this song makes way more sense and has a beautiful sentiment of undying love behind it - which makes the following parts stick out that much more!)

The first time I listened through the album, and this was the second song, I got terrified because I didn’t understand its place in the whole narrative and when I heard the first clunky line “scratch your head like a tattooed golden retriever” I got the ick. Then the bridge with no structure and no wit and no clever turns of phrase, no metaphor, just “you put my ring on the finger people put wedding rings on” and “that was the closest I’ve ever been to my heart exploding”. So over simplified and cheesy, and doesn’t sound anything like her writing, especially the caliber of her recent lyrics

I know art is largely subjective, but I insist there is no way that the same person who wrote Cowboy Like Me wrote these lines into her title track if she didn’t have a reason and a point to make. To make it clear that this isn’t a matter of genre personal taste, because I know CLM is a very specific sound and a style that music snobs often take more seriously - I love SO many of her candy pop bangers, they are infinitely more clever, articulate, and overall works of art by a true wordsmith than this. Karma, The Very First Night, etc are all a master classes in clever words and tight writing being tucked into an “unserious” pop song.

The lyrics I cited above to me sound like what haters believe her writing sounds like, even fans who make little jokey TikTok’s about her and make up a spoofy something to sing while in character - that’s what these lyrics sound like.

Im worried im being too harsh, but please stay with me because the more I think about the more genius I think it actually is.

In the context of the themes of rest of the album, (her being trapped, miserable, manipulated, ready to burn it all down, screaming to be seen) this theory became clear to me. I think she’s leaning into her public persona (in more ways than one, we’ve already seen it with the stunting), in a way setting a “trap” for her fans and the public, that will essentially call them all out on how they ignored the real her in favor of her pr narrative, making the album about paternity tests, etc, all of which I’m guessing will become very clear in retrospect, possibly after she comes out? (Of course it’s already clear to us now, which is another purpose of the beard songs including clunky writing - to signal to us that these are not serious and that she knows that we know that she knows (like Phoebe on friends lol))

Ultimately, this is (along with So Highschool) a classic beard song. When she writes in this voice, she embodies the most extreme versions of her public persona, not just the one she has cultivated on purpose, but also the one that people have of her that don’t know her (as she did in Blank Space), including those that don’t take her seriously - because her identity as a boy crazy psycho ex girlfriend is directly tied to people dismissing her art as vapid because, they’ve only ever heard her singles, they don’t know the full her.

That voice is the straightest, the most boy crazy, the most one note, and sometimes the most unsophisticated writer version of her that people have in their minds, including her fans - the fans that refuse to see her as a whole person, the real, that believe she is head over heals for big football boy, that believe “he knows how to ball, I know Aristotle” is a romantic line about how opposites attract, the fans that say they don’t “get” some of her most beautiful and well-written songs, the fans that don’t see her and haven’t been seeing her.

They didn’t see giant Taylor on the eras tour, they refuse to see all of her queer signaling, etc, and I think she’s making the bearding songs obvious to underscore the difference between her Taylor(TM) and Taylor(person) personas.

She knows that despite the fact that the lyrics don’t even come close to measuring up to the rest of the album, the public, and many of her fans, will make this song one of the most listened to simply because they are looking for evidence of her relationships from the past year. We’ve all commented on how insane it is that this layered, complex, devastating album is being reduced to the usual paternity tests. This is currently one of the top songs precisely because it is “about Matty”. And of course, So High School is one of the tops songs along with it because it’s “about Travis”.

The juxtaposition of the bearding songs alongside her beautifully written poetry of Prophecy, Peter, Whose Afraid of Little Old Me, Cassandra, How did it end, The Albatross, etc mirrors the juxtaposition of her two selves during the Midnights era.

She has proven the point that if they think she wrote every line of this song completely in earnest, then they see her largely no differently than her haters do, as a subpar writer who writes absurdly cheesy love songs praising trashy to mediocre, problematic men. By eating it up they tell her that’s what she’s good for, for being the subject of tabloids and warring fans who make this entire album about two (purposefully) mediocre songs and the men who “inspired” them.

She has proven her point - that a subset of her fans will be distracted by a lesser song simply because they think it’s about one of the greasy men that’s she been seen holding hands with. That they will ignore once again all of her pleas to be seen, that she’s in pain and caged, and has been driven insane by their willful ignorance. That they don’t appreciate her full potential and talent, that they don’t even see it, and just want to be confirmed in their ideation of her.

This song is essentially the “forget him(her)” pill at the beginning of the fortnight mv, but it’s a sedative for the fans, who are addicted to her straight narrative. Similar to Willow’s 13 chants of “that’s my man” that started off evermore, casting a spell of heteronormativity over everyone who wanted it, so that they could choose to just completely ignore the following 14 gayest songs ever written. Don’t pay no mind to her singing directly about women with zero male perspective - she said “that’s my man!” We’re good! She’s still straight!

Taylor in the fortnight mv had to a take a sedative to be able to go into the next room and write her bearding songs - ie she self medicates to deal with keeping up the straight persona and to get through having to release dumbed down songs to feed the masses. (I also see the pill as something forced on her, I think it represents both layers)

From the first time I watched the music video I thought the writing Taylor looked so miserable and the bearding songs are why.

In this room she’s trapped, churning out the songs that her fans expect of her, the songs that make her team money, the songs that make her money, but that she has to compromise her truth to create.

But when she frees herself she’ll burn the stories that weren’t true, the filler that doesn’t represent her.

I’m curious to hear other’s thoughts on this - have you ever felt like Taylor purposefully inserts off-sounding lyrics that are written in a different voice to make a point?

I want to reiterate that it’s not the entirety of either song that I think is terrible, I genuinely love bopping along to both So High School and TTPD (track). Like I said above, when you remove the clunky lines from ttpd (track), the song has another layer and likely gives voice to some Karlie insight that is beautiful and tragically profound. It’s the red herrings, the pieces specifically meant to tie this song to a bearding narrative, that I’m dissing, and the only reason they are suspicious in the first place is because I know how gifted Taylor is with the written word.

Taylor is such a skilled writer that she can embody the voice of the bad writer that dismissive ignorant idiots believe her to be, just to make a point!

I even wonder if maybe there is a second version of this song locked away in one of those drawers in the fortnight writing room that leaves out the red herrings and is a thousand times better than the bearding version we got.

I hope one day we get to hear it.

[gowonminajxx]

pre show prep: frozen hands

hobie brown + fem!reader thoughts

CWs :: smut (fingering), desperate hobie, small plot, british people. not proof read or edited

hobie brown had concerts every now and then, and when he did, he obviously needed some sort of warm up or practice before playing in front of a public crowd.

his fingers would strum the guitar at least an hour or two before the concert, trying to warm up to his senses and feelings he had when was on stage.

hobie found himself stranded in thoughts, getting distracted while he played by the most random things. the light from outside the practice warehouse being extremely blinding, a bird chirping, or anything that alerted some sort of sense.

he had to do something. his fingers felt a little frozen, almost as if they couldn’t play at their full speed. they felt rusty when they clashed against his guitar.

hobie had thought of a pros and cons list to every option other than practicing before a show, and he was pretty stumped. his eyes would gaze around almost as if he was searching, looking for more ideas.

but there was one solution. with multiple benefits.

you were his girlfriend, someone who he’d drag along to his shows every time he had one. you’d stand in the crowd, bopping along to the music and watching your love perform in front of all these people.

this time, he called you up a little earlier in the day, sending his location over as fast as possible as his frozen fingers tapped up against the screen.

you agreed, heading over. he talked about this like it was an emergency, so there was a lot more rush in your step.

as soon as you arrived, he motioned you quickly to a small closet in the back. it was dark, extremely small, and it looked like it could only fit two people. which was perfect for hobie in this situation.

he urgently pulled down your pants after unzipping them, almost ripping open your panties beneath with his wide fingers. you could barely get any words out as he cut you off with his sudden physical actions.

you stumbled upon your words as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tongue swirling around as he prepped. hobie’s eyes glanced towards your already wet clit, but paid no mind as he slid in two digits.

his fingers were long and thick (like another body part of his), and hit you in all the right ways. he stood up straight, leaning over you a little as he stared into your shiny eyes.

he chuckled. “sorry for not tellin’ you, but i need some way to warm up before the show.” his thick fingers delved deeper, pushing into your pussy as you whimpered below him vulnerably and desperately.

“good method, innit?” his pierced eyebrow raised, gleaming in the dim flickering light of the closet. he smirked smugly as he stuck in one other finger with no preparation.

his fingers were now sliding in quickly, and it seemed like this was the best kind of practice for him. his fingers warm and slick inside of your clit, being drenched in your liquids even before you orgasmed.

he landed a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, focusing more on his practice down there. his eyes narrowed to look down, a grin almost raising on his face as he wiped it away. the way you whimpered for his movements and because of his movements just made him want even more.

as soon as you orgasmed, you’d beg him to head to the venue to go play his show so he wouldn’t be late, but he shut you up with his fingers working even harder.

sliding in and out with wet noises, his thick fingers delved inside you as you moaned, the sounds filling up the closet. hobie grinned as he placed his hand on your back so you wouldn’t crush into the shelves behind you.

he licked the liquids off his fingers as soon as you finished, before pulling your panties and bottoms back up, making you wear the drenched panties underneath your clothing.

and you noticed how he played more intricately at his shows, his fingers moving at a quicker pace with new songs he just learned.

and you wonder why.

[lemoncrushh]

What Happens In Vegas...

Summary: Your Vegas trip to celebrate your friend's birthday turns into a night you hadn't expected when you meet Harry Styles in the casino.

Warnings: Fingering, hand kink, gambling (well, it is Vegas). 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 3533

A/N: One shot originally posted in 2017. Inspired by Harry's performance at the iHeart Festival in Las Vegas. Edited to be a reader fic. This is for the gals with the obsession with his hands. Also, rereading this, I realized you aren't that great of a friend, but hopefully you can look past that lol.

"Thank you," he said to the crowd. "I am a narcissist, so that will help my ego, thank you very much."

"Oh God," you rolled your eyes. "Like he needs any help boosting his ego."

You felt Simone poke you in the side, her apparent glare of disapproval burning a hole into your profile. You chuckled as you lowered your head. She'd drug you to this iHeart Radio concert in Vegas. You hadn't really wanted to go when she announced she had tickets, but because it was part of her birthday trip, you'd agreed to attend.

Harry Styles. Give me a break, you groaned. The kid had come out looking like a cross between a court jester and a Tim Burton character in his harlequin suit and nearly see-through shirt with a big bow at the neck, and you were supposed to swoon? Apparently so, you thought to yourself when you heard the crowd made up of mostly females fill the room with screams louder than any heavy metal audience you'd ever been a part of. And you supposed the bow was supposed to signify his desire to be a present you were to unwrap?

You giggled during his set as he pranced across stage trying to be a rockstar. You had to hand it to him. He definitely had the stage presence and charisma, and despite the fact that you'd never been a fan of boy bands, you could see why he had so many fans. Plus, you had to admit even if only to yourself, he had an incredibly handsome face. No doubt he knew it though.

Stepping further out to the catwalk, Harry gave the audience what they came for, even if they hadn't initially come to see him in particular. You couldn't help it though. Watching him dance around in that suit had you laughing, especially when he'd bop his head from side to side as he sang about "having your baby" and "it's none of your business."

By the time his set was over and he'd walked off stage, you knew Simone was waiting to let you have it. You gave her a smirk as she shook her head at you and rolled her eyes.

"I don't wanna hear it," she said.

"What? I didn't say anything!" you laughed.

"No, but you're thinking it."

"What?" you held up your hands. "It was actually not bad. I kinda liked it."

"You thought it was funny."

"Yeah," you laughed harder. "It was. But that last song's gonna be stuck in my head for a while, so you should be happy about that."

"Ugh," Simone groaned.

You stayed for a few more acts that you didn't think were much better before finally calling it a night and heading back to your hotel.

"You're going to bed?" you asked when you saw Simone pull her bag of toiletries from her suitcase and walk to the bathroom.

"Yeah...why?"

"This is Vegas!" you exclaimed. "The city that never sleeps."

"I thought that was New York."

"Whatever. Let's go hit the tables."

Simone slumped her shoulders. "I'm kinda beat."

You stuck out your bottom lip in an attempt to sway her with a pout. "But your birthday's not over."

With a sigh, Simone dropped her items on the bed and grabbed her purse.

"C'mon," she grinned. "Just an hour or two."

"Yay!" you squealed as you opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

Luck was on your side for the first twenty minutes or so, and you were up a good three hundred when you suggested you make your way to the higher dollar tables.

"Are you kidding?" exclaimed Simone. "You'll lose it all on one bet!"

"It's called gambling," you snorted.

Despite her argument, Simone followed you to one of the exclusive rooms. You saw the pit boss eye you as you sat down at the table, but he didn't say anything when you laid down your chips. Hesitantly, Simone did the same and you caught her swallow hard when the dealer placed a card in front of her and then one in front of you, followed by two more cards facing up. You grinned when yours was an ace, and the dealer slid the cards into the finder. Flipping up the bottom card, he revealed a Jack.

"Woohoo!" you cheered.

"Damn, you are on a streak," Simone commented as she decided to stay on a six. Unfortunately, the dealer didn't bust and she lost. "Crap. I'm gonna sit the next one out. Meet you at the bar?"

You were barely listening. Something - or someone - had caught your eye as he walked across the room.

"I'll be damned," you muttered.

"Huh?"

"Look who just walked in," you nodded toward your right. "Mr. Ego himself."

"Holy shit!" Simone breathed. "Ooh he looks good, too. He changed out of his suit."

You turned your head slightly to notice that he indeed was wearing a basic white t-shirt and black jeans.

"Well of course," you mocked. "Even a narcissist like himself can't keep up the facade all night."

"Stop calling him that," Simone argued. "You know he was just being cheeky, and he doesn't have a big ego."

"Please," you rolled your eyes. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow."

"All bets up," you heard the dealer say.

"Oh, I'm done," Simone shook her head while you placed another healthy bet.

The dealer slid the cards in front of you. Your top card was a three. Not good. you took a peek at your bottom card. A queen. Shit. Fortunately the dealer had a four, so he was likely to bust. you went with the odds and stayed. Turning over his bottom card, the dealer revealed a ten. Taking another card, he turned over a king. Yes!

"Oh my God woman, you have some luck!"

You beamed at Simone just as you heard another voice behind you.

"Ah, wonderful," he clapped. "Looks like I picked the lucky table."

"Hello."

It was Simone who actually spoke. For the first time ever, it seemed you were tongue-tied.

"Hi," Harry greeted. You caught a glimpse of his dimpled grinned before his fingers grazed your back and he took the seat next to you.

Clearing your throat, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Harry placed a stack of chips on the table. But it wasn't the obvious amount of money he was willing to chuck on a single bet that caught your attention the most. It was his hand and the lovely rings that adorned it.

You'd always had a thing for nice hands on a man. And Harry definitely had them. Long, slender fingers, great for playing piano, guitar and...other things.

The cards were dealt, and you peeked at your bottom card. You already had seventeen and the dealer had a five showing. You were definitely going to stay. You watched Harry's hand as he tapped lightly on the table, seeming to contemplate his next move. Suddenly, he leaned towards you and whispered.

"What should I do?"

You raised a brow. "Excuse me?" The kid didn't know how to play?

"Well, I...I know the rules of the game. It's just...you seem to have the luck on your side, so I wanna make sure I make the right move."

"Oh," you chuckled. You looked at the dealer's card and pointed. "He's only got a five. Odds are, he's gonna bust."

"And why's that?"

"Because...the dealer has to get to at least seventeen. You have to assume he has a ten underneath. So that's only fifteen. The next card has a high chance of being a ten or a face card. That would make him bust. So...you have a three. If the card you're not showing is anything over an eight, you're gonna want to stay."

"What if it's an eight?"

You grinned. "Well then, that's eleven. You're gonna want to double down."

With a stoic expression, Harry grabbed a stack of chips the same height as the first and placed them next to it. Then he nodded and gestured at the dealer who laid another card down for him. A queen. When the dealer revealed his own cards, your prediction had been right and he busted. Harry turned to you with a Cheshire cat smile.

"Thanks, love," he said.

You couldn't help but smile back. "Anytime."

You played several rounds, both of you winning most of them except when the dealer got an automatic blackjack. You heard Simone yawn behind you, and you felt a tinge of guilt that you'd almost forgotten about her.

"Are you ready to go?" you asked her.

"Yeah, but you can stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Then she leaned to whisper in your ear. "I told you he's not a bad guy."

You pursed your lips. "I didn't say he was."

"Yeah...you kinda did."

"Okay, okay," you nudged her. "We'll talk about it later."

You said a quick goodnight, and she walked away just as Harry got another blackjack. He hooted, making the dealer chuckle.

"I reckon you're good luck," Harry beamed at you.

You shrugged, nonchalantly. "I have my moments."

You watched as Harry inspected his next facedown card, completely mesmerized by his hands. You suddenly felt flushed as you wondered what they would feel like on you. You blinked hard and shook your head. What the hell was wrong with you?

"I really like that ring," you finally said aloud.

"Which one?"

"That rose-shaped one. Very pretty."

"Thanks," he looked at the ring and back up at you. "It's one of my favorites."

A handful of games later, you realized you must be up at least a grand. Unfortunately, luck only lasted so long, and you started to lose, busting a couple times and then staying when the dealer got a twenty.

"I think it's time to cash in," you admitted. "While I'm still ahead."

"Oh, don't go," said Harry. "You're my good luck charm."

You laughed. "I'm sure that's not true. You're doing great on your own."

"Stay. Please."

You sucked in your lips as you looked at his face. Goodness, he was cute. Perhaps you had been a little harsh, dismissing him merely because of who he was...or rather, who you suspected him to be. It wasn't fair.

"Okay, but I'm not playing anymore."

"Then we'll play something else," Harry suggested. "Craps? Roulette?"

"I'm not good at either of those," you frowned.

"Roulette's easy. It's just a guessing game. C'mon."

Taking your chips, you followed Harry to the roulette table where a larger crowd was gathered.

"Pick a number," he said.

"That easy, huh?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"There's probably more to it than that, but I have no idea," you commented.

"Probably. But we're just playing for fun."

You watched the wheel spin and the little ball stop in the number twenty-two. A woman squealed and the dealer paid her her winnings.

"Playing for fun is for Monopoly money," you said. "This is real money."

Harry chuckled. "So was blackjack."

"Yeah, but I know how to play that."

"Pick a number, love," he said again. "Or a color if you'd rather."

You looked at the board and considered your options. Finally, you chose the number thirty-five. You watched Harry's fingers as he placed a stack of chips on the number itself, more on the column, and even more on black. You weren't sure how much money that was, but you weren't about to ask. Your stomach was in knots as you watched the wheel spin. Finally, the ball stopped.

"Number eleven!" the dealer shouted. Your heart sank, but you caught Harry smiling.

"What happened?" you asked.

"You won," he replied. "Twice."

"Huh? How'd I do that? He called eleven."

"Eleven is black and it's in the same column as thirty-five. That's where I put the bets."

"Oh," you mouthed.

Harry rubbed his hand up your back. "Told you, you're my good luck charm. Now pick another number."

"I can't keep betting with your money!"

"Alright. Then we'll use yours," he reached for your hand.

"Hey!"

Harry laughed harder, grabbing only a few of your chips. "C'mon, pick something."

"Fine, but I'm just choosing black."

"Black it is," Harry nodded, setting your chips down. Then he took more of his own and placed them between several different numbers in different places. you weren't sure what he was doing, you were lost. Finally, he turned to you.

"Have an idea," he said.

Sliding the rose ring off his finger, he kissed it, then placed it on top of your chips on the black.

"What's that for?" you inquired.

"That's yours if you win."

All you could do was stare at him. The dealer spun the wheel, you could hear the ball bouncing and the other players cheering. But you just stood there staring at Harry Styles. This guy you'd thought was a complete egotistical douchebag until about thirty minutes ago.

"Number seventeen!" the dealer called.

You cringed, trying to read the expression on Harry's face. But he merely stared back at you.

"Is seventeen black?" you asked him.

He threw his head back and let out a loud guffaw. "Yes, it is."

Your eyes grew wide and you pushed his chest with your hands. "What the fuck, no way!"

Harry continued to laugh as he covered your hands with his that clung to his t-shirt. Your eyes fell down to look at them and it was then that you noticed his shirt was almost sheer, just like the one he'd worn on stage, minus the pineapple shapes. You could see several splashes of ink displayed on his chest, and for a second you wished he would let you examine them all in private.

Your chest rose and fell from excitement and exhilaration, and you chuckled to yourself. Letting go of you, Harry collected the winnings and his ring.

"Here you are," he said, handing it to you.

"No," you shook your head. "No, I can't take that."

"Why not? I said it was yours if you won."

"This is too..." you felt the ring in your hand momentarily. "No, I can't accept it."

Twisting his mouth in confusion, Harry watched you as you slid the ring back on his gorgeous finger.

"That's where it belongs," you whispered.

"Sorry?"

"On your hand," you let out a sigh. "You have really beautiful hands."

You heard him giggle slightly as you continued to stare at them, taking them both in your own hands as though you were inspecting them. You were probably creeping him out, but you were lost in your own thoughts.

"Um...here's your...your money," he swallowed, releasing his hand from yours and reaching for your chips.

"Oh, thanks. I should..."

"No, thank you," his lips curled up. "I really do think you had a lucky streak tonight."

You grinned at him, your tongue darting out of the corner of your mouth. "Not completely lucky."

Harry's smile grew as he raised a brow at your cheeky comment.

"See ya, Harry," you winked and turned around. "I had fun."

"Wait, where are you going?" you felt his hand on your arm.

"To my room," you pointed up at the ceiling.

"Do you have to?"

You paused and glared at him. This guy was very hard to read. You could tell he'd been flirting with you, but it also could've been harmless, and he was just being kind. Now he didn't want you to go? You bit your lip and stepped closer to him.

"I guess not," you nearly whispered. "But I think I might be done with gambling for the night."

"No worries," he said low, his eyes looking down into yours. "We could go somewhere else."

"What'd you have in mind?"

"My room."

You should have known he'd have one of the biggest rooms in the hotel. It took up nearly the entire side of one floor, front to back. You stared out the windows at the city lights, the amazing view taking your breath away and making you feel alive at the same time.

"Here you are," you heard Harry say behind you.

You turned to see two glasses in his hands. Taking one from him, you murmured a thank you and took a sip of the best tequila you'd ever had in your life. You threw your head back with a sigh as you heard him hum in agreement.

"So you stay in rooms like this...all by yourself?"

"Yes. Sometimes."

"Must get lonely."

"Sometimes."

Taking another sip, you strolled around the outer perimeter of the room, stopping at the other corner window where you could see a view of the mountains.

"I love Vegas," you commented. "I used to want to move here. It's like it's own little word, separate fr-"

Suddenly, your glass left your hand and Harry set it on a nearby table. Then he grabbed you and kissed you, hard, his tongue darting deep into your mouth.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded as his lips traveled down your neck.

"What?" you asked, breathless.

"What you want me to do to you. I'll do whatever you like."

"Oh..." you said with a moan. "Your hands. I want your hands on me."

"Okay. Where do you like to be touched?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. I just...I want those gorgeous hands and fingers on me."

Harry's eyes met yours, and he nodded his understanding. Reaching behind you, he found the zipper of your dress. It fell to the floor instantly, pooling at your feet. Though there was a cool temperature in the room, you suddenly felt hot all over as Harry's gaze roamed your body. Then giving you his hand, you stepped out of your dress and kicked off your heels. He pulled you closer to him until his hands cupped your naked breasts. You shut your eyes at the contact, the sensation already more than you could bear.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his thumbs grazing over your nipples causing goosebumps to rise over your flesh.

You covered his hands with yours, slowly guiding one of them down to your panty line.

"Mmm," he sounded as his fingers slid down and met wetness.

You heard his breaths quicken with yours, and he swallowed hard. His fingertip touched the outer rim of your center, teasing you in tiny circles. You bucked your hips to allow him access, but he was insistent on keeping with his own rhythm.

"Please," you begged softly.

"Not yet, love," he cooed.

Releasing his hand, he pushed your panties down and off. Then he kissed you again before guiding you to the plush sofa. He sat down and pulled you on top of him so that you straddled him, your hands on his shoulders. His eyes dark and lids heavy, his hands caressed you softly before kneading your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples.

You moaned low, wishing he would put his mouth on them, but you could tell he was taking you at your word, giving you exactly what you'd asked for. You looked down at his hands as one slowly slid down your stomach, and his thumb met your already swollen bud.

"Oh God," you panted, lifting yourself on your knees so he had better access.

Harry then brought his hand to his mouth where you watched him lick two fingers before returning them to your clit. He stroked you slowly, making your knees buckle until he finally, ever so gently, inserted one finger, then a second.

You threw your head back, your own hands clawing at the neck of his t-shirt as you rode his fingers. You could feel the cold chill of his rings against your skin and you let out another cry of pleasure.

"Tell me how it feels," you heard him say as he picked up speed.

"So good," you breathed, urging his other hand up your breast to your neck. "Feels so good."

Harry brought his fingers to your mouth, where you licked the tips seductively before sucking.

"Mmhmm," he agreed. "You look so good, too."

"I want you," you sounded, looking at his face, his shirt in your fist.

Harry chuckled. "I'm right here."

"I want you inside me," you clarified.

"I am inside you," he smirked. Cocky asshole.

"No," you pouted, sliding your hand down his chest to the bulge in his jeans.

"You said you wanted my hands." Harry raised a brow smugly, his fingers nearly finding just the right spot. You leaned towards him, your head falling in the crook of his neck.

"Please."

"I'm gonna watch you come like this," he said. "Then we'll fuck, yeah?"

You moaned against his skin, your hips bucking as you felt yourself reach your peak.

"Say my name when you come," he growled.

You looked into his eyes and smiled. "So you are a narcissist. I knew it."

"You bet I am."

You rolled your eyes, but not at him. The truth was, there was no way you couldn't have said his name. He made you come harder than anyone ever had. Twice.

Harry Styles and his fucking ego.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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adorable dividers always by @firefly-graphics

[kikis-writing-world]

Espresso

Or: She needed to come back down to earth

Chrissy Cunningham has tickets to see her favorite pop star perform. It's a concert she'll never, ever forget.

Past Eddie/Chrissy, current female Pop Star!Reader/Rockstar!Eddie

*In the 3rd person, can also be read as an OC

Word Count: 3k

Rating/Warnings: Reader is female presenting and performed Espresso originally by Sabrina Carpenter, and I describe her as moving and posing, but possibly with the aid of dansers? - blank slate otherwise. No Upside Down. Could be read either canon!AU (mid 90s or so as they're adults now) or modern!AU. If I missed anything AU wise or blankslate!reader wise, please let me know kindly <3 I'm only human.

This work is rated PG but this blog is always 18+

A/N: The song got me, what can I say? Somewhere in my head Espresso mixed with Sk8er Boy by Avril Lavigne and here's what you get. A little fic to whet your appetite. Not edited, not betaed, written in about 1.5 hours while also at work- but I hope you enjoy it anyway <3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso-

Chrissy giggled as she sang along to the track floating from the state of the art boombox on her dresser. Her best friends, Cindy and Linda, danced around the bedroom with her, feeling like teens again as they got ready for the concert that evening.

“I can’t get enough of this song,” Linda gushed as she leaned close to the mirror above Chrissy’s vanity. She stopped singing along with the other girls long enough to apply her shiny lip gloss to perfection.

“She’s the best.” Chrissy agreed, turning the volume up even farther, hitting the threshold as the boombox reached max volume.

“Can I borrow this?” Cindy asked, picking up one of Chrissy’s eyeshadow palettes.

“Of course,” Chrissy agreed without thought, only to pause. “Wait- as long as you use that pink,” Chrissy amended, pointing to the neon hue. “Because it’s perfect with your outfit.”

The girls all laughed as they agreed on it being the perfect shade.

“How did you even get these tickets, it’s been sold out for months?” Linda asked, turning away from the mirror, bopping in place to the music.

“Daddy has a client whose son’s fiance got mono on her bachelorette vacation, so they canceled the wedding. They sold her tickets to afford the cancellation fees.” Chrissy explained as she compared two necklaces against her outfit. The girls cringed in sympathy, but the mood was quickly uplifted as they all tuned back into the music, forgetting the unknown couple’s problems. The tornado of excitement and glitter moved through the room until suddenly the girls all stopped what they were doing to sing along in tandem.

“I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

The three faced each other as they sang, sharing the moment as they each performed their hearts out as if they were the one performing on stage tonight. The three danced, twirling their hips and waving their arms the way they did as teens, trying to get all the boys’ attention. Not the three grown adults they were, with homes, partners and responsibilities. It was freeing to feel so young again.

“My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen-

The three all shrieked with laughter as they reached the end of the verse, laughing at each other’s lewd dance moves in camaraderie.

“Oh shit, is that the time?!” Cindy gasped, cutting off the raucous laughter. The other two girls turned to the clock Cindy was staring at, noticing time did indeed fly when you were having this much fun. If they didn’t finish getting ready soon, they would be late and then have a hard time finding a good spot to watch the show from.

“Shit!” Chrissy cursed, barely audible over the blasting music. She jogged over to the boombox, turning it down a few notches to a more reasonable volume.

All three women snapped back to task, perfecting their make-up and concert looks. It wasn’t long before they were running out the door and into Chrissy’s powder blue Beamer. Chrissy hadn’t even backed out of the driveway before Linda had the car stereo blasting the album, right where they had left off in the house. The three women sped down the highway, singing along to the tracks they would soon be hearing live.

Chrissy was sure her perfectly coiffed hair was falling and frizzing up, her carefully applied make-up turned into colourful smudges across her cheeks, the boots styled to match her outfit splattered with dirt and mud - but she couldn’t care less. She was having the time of her life at the concert. The singing was amazing, even better than the album. The dancing, the choreography - the hunky dancers. She was having the best time, dancing and singing along with Cindy and Linda.

“This is AMAZING!” Linda shrieked as the song ended. Chrissy clapped and cheered while Cindy jumped up and down.

“Alright, alright,” the woman on stage spoke, waving off everyone still cheering after the last number she performed. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath from the singing and dancing, skin glistening with sweat under the stage lights. Her hair hadn’t fallen and her make-up hadn’t budged. Chrissy watched her in awe, quieting her own thrilled cheers to hear what her favorite artist had to say next.

“Oh my god, Indiana, you guys are crazy!” She laughed, waiting for the crowd to die down. Unfortunately, the comment made them cheer in agreement. Chrissy and her friends jumped up and down, cheering along.

The performer on stage dropped the microphone to her side as she laughed again at the crowd’s reaction. She looked off stage and made a little shrugging motion, a smile on her face all the while. Chrissy couldn’t see who she was looking at from her angle - someone on her team, her manager, someone running the equipment; she wasn’t sure. She kept looking between the crowd and the wing of the stage until they quieted enough for her to speak once more.

“See I have a friend,” the singer started, roaming the stage with ease. Her presence filled the large space as the crowd - Chrissy, Linda and Cindy included - took in each word with bated breath. A field full of fans waiting to see what she would say or do next. “A very good friend, you might say.” The singer admitted with a sly smirk.

The crowd exploded - some cheers, some boos of disappointed fans.

“Did you know she was seeing anybody?!” Linda gasped.

“I hadn’t seen anything in The Enquirer!” Cindy shook her head, flailing her hands as if trying to fan herself. “Oh my god, who do you think it is?”

“It could be anyone,” Linda started, only to be interrupted by Chrissy.

“Maybe Leo!” She laughed, joking while all the while loving the idea that her favorite pop star might be dating her favorite hunk of an actor. Linda and Cindy agreed by way of shrieking and jumping with excitement. Chrissy joined in immediately.

“See, my very special friend is from right here in Indiana!” the star continued over the mic, halting the girls’ theorizing. They quieted down, Linda blindly grabbing for Chrissy and Cindy’s hands as she never took her eyes off the stage. No one wanted to miss a hint on who the mystery “friend” was. “He told me that you guys… Well, he doesn’t seem to like his home state very much.” The star fake pouted as the rapt audience booed. She looked off stage, pointing her exaggerated pout that way. 

“Oh my god, is he here? Who is it?” Cindy nearly fell over, trying to lean over far enough to see backstage.

“I can’t see from here!” Chrissy huffed, craning her neck to get a better look. It was no use, they were too far to the same side to see into the wings.

“I know! What a meanie!” The singer laughed joyfully into the microphone. “I tell him he’s a big meanie all the time, but he doesn’t believe me.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

A dull laugh rolled through the crowd and the performer gave it a moment to breathe before continuing with her story. “I think you were all a bit mean to him too once, but maybe one day you’ll forgive each other.” She tutted. The crowd cheered their agreement - anything to make their idol happy. The reaction made the singer beam brightly, glancing over her shoulder yet again.

“This next song… I wrote it for him, and-”

The crowd cheered and awed, interrupting her briefly. She shot a wink offstage before rolling through the crowd’s roar.

“I wrote this for him, and right here in front of everyone he says he hates, I’m dedicating it to him! Let’s show him some love!” She yelled over the mic, the crowd growing louder as it fed off her excitement.

There was a short beat of silence before the opening notes to Espresso started, making the crowd go wild once more as the smash hit song started.

Chrissy, Cindy and Linda all screamed along with the crowd, jumping with excitement despite their sore, aching feet after dancing all night. Chrissy pulled her camera out of her fanny pack, snapping pics as the song started. The singer smiled and danced to the opening notes, waiting for her cue to start singing. The dancers around her grooved along with her, waiting for the choreography to start.

"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso-

The trio of women sang along at the top of their lungs, as loud as their already sore throats would allow. Chrissy couldn’t be bothered to care that she likely wouldn’t have a voice tomorrow, it was worth it to sing along.

"Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya

The singer and her group of dancers made their way towards their side of the stage, the crowd around them cheering for her as she approached. The three girls got their cameras ready as they snapped pictures of their favorite singer performing their favorite song just a dozen feet away from them. The male dancers fawned over her as the female dancers backed her up, dancing with her.

"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

The singer moved back across the stage, doing her best to perform to all sides, giving each fan in the crowd a chance to see her and her dancers. She had been doing it the whole show, but the crowd predictably was even more lively for her big, hit single.

All too soon, the song ended with everyone on stage hitting a final pose. The singer was center stage, looking upwards towards the stage lights as the dancers posed around her. Cameras flashed through the people as everyone took their chance to get a decent shot as everyone stood still aside from their heaving chests as they caught their breath.

Chrissy, Linda and Cindy followed suit, cheering and taking pictures between their jumping and flailing. Chrissy was lifting her camera for her fourth or fifth photo of the pose - she lost count - when Linda grabbed her arm and her attention.

“Look!!!” Linda screamed as others in the crowd started reacting too. A tall, lanky figure had emerged from the wing, sauntering proudly towards the singer at center stage. He wore dark coloured jeans and a black t-shirt. His face wasn’t visible past the mop of inky curls when they first caught sight of him, but Chrissy felt a sinking feeling in her stomach at the silhouette. It was too familiar, a memory of her past, but surely it wasn’t-

More people from the crowd started screaming as the man crossed the stage. The singer finally dropped the pose, lowering her eyes to look at the crowd. She was smiling, face flushed from performing, but she soon noticed the crowd looking to the side.

Chrissy heard a man behind her, arguing with his girlfriend, the conversation fading in and out of the ruckus around her. “... -ed Coffin… telling you that’s him… think I know what “Shredder” Ed-…”

The pop star on stage looked surprised to see the man at first, but by the time he pushed through the cluster of back-up dancers around her, she was smiling up at him. The smile was brighter than any she’d given the audience on stage that night, a smile that shone in her eyes in a totally different way than performing on stage made them shine. The pop star started to speak, the microphone still held to her side not picking up any of the words. She didn’t say much before the man interrupted her, cupping the back of her head and dipping down to kiss her.

The crowd cheered through the passionate kiss. The back-up dancers around her reacted with joy and surprise at the public display of affection, some gasping while others applauded or laughed. 

The man pulled the woman to him, holding her like he might be able to absorb her into himself in front of everyone. The singer didn’t fight, but she was obviously caught off guard at first. It barely took a moment for her to drop the microphone, a loud thunking noise booming from the speakers as it clattered to the stage. Her arms wrapped around the man, returning his embrace as she kissed him back. The sound of camera shutters nearly drowned out the voices of the crowd as everyone rushed to take pictures of the pop star and her apparent boyfriend - some to brag to their friends, some to try to sell as the first appearance of the world’s newest celebrity couple.

Chrissy stayed frozen, camera to her side as she watched who she was sure was her high school ex-boyfriend, Eddie Munson, having a heavy makeout session on stage with her favorite pop star.

“Wait, is that…” Cindy asked, starting to also recognize the man who had yet to turn his face their way. Cindy looked at Chrissy, her frozen reaction being all the answer she needed. Cindy prodded Linda, trying to get her to smarten up to what was happening to their friend.

The couple on stage finally parted, catching their breath as they only had eyes for each other. The pop star looked up at her man like he was the only person in the whole state, let alone in a crowd of hundreds. The man’s hand, covered with large silver rings, cupped her cheek gently. From where she stood, Chrissy could see his thumb caress her cheek. Despite the warm summer day, Chrissy shivered as she felt a ghost of a touch, a memory, across her own cheek.

The man leaned in, speaking directly into the singer’s ear for a few seconds. She let go a second later as he released her, bending down to pick up the microphone that was left abandoned on the stage. The man turned towards the crowd, finally showing his face to the entire audience. Some cheered as they recognized the lead singer and guitarist for the heavy metal band, while others who didn’t listen to heavy music waited for a clue to who the man was.

“Is that Eddie?!” Linda gaped, looking up at the man who was once the boy dating her friend.

He was older now than he was then, obviously. His mop of curls were still present, if possible better cared for. He had inky tattoos up and down his visible arms and some high on his neck, coming out of the collar of his Metallica shirt. He’d grown a short goatee, but the dimple in his cheek was still visible as he addressed the crowd. He looked… Great was probably not a strong enough word for how good Eddie Munson looked.

“Your Ex? Like, Eddie Mu-oof” Linda continued until Cindy elbowed her harshly in the side. Linda finally noticed the pale, frozen expression on Chrissy’s face. “Oh.” She mumbled lamely.

“Who's a freak now, Indiana?” Eddie growled into the microphone, his voice raspier than Chrissy remembered it- age, constant performing and steady smoking had settled into his vocal chords in an appealing way. It reminded Chrissy how he used to sound after a show at The Hideout, voice rough from a night of screaming into the mic. 

Eddie tossed the microphone to a nearby dancer, not bothering to check if the unsuspecting man caught it (he did, barely) as he stuck his tongue out, devil horns atop his head. Just like that, Chrissy could see the boy underneath the age, tattoos and facial hair. The 18 year old who couldn’t promise her the world, but promised everything in his world, only for her to break his heart a year and some months later. Out of everyone there, Chrissy looked up and saw no one but Hawkins’ freak with a heart of gold Eddie Munson, but she realized Shredder Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin didn’t even know she was there. She hadn’t even realized he’d gotten signed, or the band was famous- when had that happened?

Eddie turned, planting another passionate, borderline messy kiss on the pop star's laughing lips. The crowd erupted in another set of cheers, harshly pulling Chrissy back to real life.

Eddie ended the kiss, resting his forehead against the singer’s. The two’s lips were moving through their wide smiles. Chrissy could only imagine the sweet nothings being exchanged. Once upon a time, in a different life, in a quiet trailer park, those sweet nothings had been reserved just for her.

Eddie patted the star on the ass before releasing her from his arms. She laughed as he jogged back to his spot in the wings, hand over her mouth like she couldn’t believe the kiss they’d just shared. Eddie didn’t bother to acknowledge the crowd as he left, no wave goodbye or lude gestures. Before he disappeared from view, he turned to blow a kiss in her direction.

Red faced but smiling gleefully, the starlet pretended to catch it, placing it on her cheek. She stared after him even once he was out of view, only remembering herself when the dancer handed her the microphone.

“Oh, um…” She stumbled her words into the mic, giggling bashfully. She lowered the mic and took a deep breath, physically shaking her limbs. “I was expecting that even less than the rest of you.” She joked once she brought the mic back up to her smudged lips. “Let’s, uh… Let’s move on with the show?” She laughed, unsure how else to move forward with the setlist. The crowd cheered their agreement as she nodded to all her dancers and musicians to get ready to start back up.

“Should we leave?” Cindy asked quietly. Linda stared at Chrissy, waiting for her response.

It was definitely a concert she’d never, ever forget.

[joost-klein-imagines]

I’m in love with the idea of reader having their own fanbase, maybe they’re also a musician or a YouTuber etc and when Joost and reader get together their fanbases are like “omg we’re siblings now!!”

I fell in love with your idea too! I was busy so it took me a while, but I managed to write something. It's not a typical fanfic, I experimented with a form this time but I hope you'll like it!

A reader is a musician youtuber with a small, but very faithful fanbase. You can read more under the cut.

yourusername: HI!!! I HOPE YOU LIKE MY COVER OF “EUROPAPA”, THIS SONG DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER!!!

Comments:

user1: I absolutely adore this, keep your hard work! ❤️

user2: wtf is this shit???!!!

user3: such a shame no original song this time, but this slaps too! :) 

joostklein: MY FRIENDS BROUGHT ME HERE, THANKS FOR SHARING EUROPAPA LOVE! 💙

*

You looked briefly through the comments again. Most of them were positive, some of them were hateful, nothing new. But one of them brought your attention the most. It was the comment of Joost himself, a guy who you covered. You couldn’t believe that he noticed your video. You had just made a cover of this song because you had found it cool and had thought that Joost’s disqualification had been unfair and that his song deserved to be performed at the Eurovision grand final. You wondered how to reply for a while, finally writing just two words: “Thanks, king! :D” 

Ugh, I’m so pathetic, you thought as you buried your face in your hands.

*

yourusername: HI! HERE’S MY NEW SONG, I HOPE IT’LL BE A SUMMER HIT! :) 

Comments: 

user3: that’s what I’m talking about, pls give us more songs like that!!! 

joostklein: such a bop! 🤓

user4: omg I’m gonna listen to it for a whole summer ☀️

user2: another shitty song

user5: yea, they should delete their channel

*

That time you put a video with your original song on youtube. And Joost commented on it again! You thought that “Europapa” cover was just an exception because it was a cover of his song, but he actually followed your work. That moment even hate comments didn’t bother you that much. Your heart really raced up when you checked your inbox on instagram. You found a direct message from Joost there asking you for a collaboration. 

You politely replied that you agree, trying not to sound overly excited. You promised Joost to check out your schedule and come to the Netherlands in free time. 

*

[A TikTok video of you and Joost singing “Europapa” together.]

yourusername: FINALLY MET THE KING! 👑

Comments:

user4: attention! attention! they sing europapa together!

user1: i’m gonna cry, y/n totally deserved to meet him! 😭

user3: but what does it mean? collab? 🤔

user6: COLLAB! COLLAB! COLLAB!

user7: MANIFESTING 🕯️🕯️🕯️

user5: pfft, attention seeker

*

yourusername: A NEW SONG WITH JOOST 💙STREAM NOW!

Comments: 

user7: I can’t believe that two of my favorite artists made a song together 😭thank you so much!!! 💞💞💞

user3: pretty good!

user8: good jobs guys! i love you so much!!! 💕

user2: damn, does Joost really fall down so low that he collabs with them???

user6: if you don’t like it, just don’t listen to it 🙄imo it’s a bop, I hope they’ll make more songs together in the future! 🤞

*

[A picture of you and Joost on instagram. Joost poses in a funny way while you’re taking a pic of him with a polaroid camera.]

yourusername: LOVE OF MY LIFE 💙

Comments: 

user4: screaming, crying, throwing up, does it mean they’re together??? 🥺

user9: yea, I guess so, Joost confirmed this on his insta too

user1: joost nation x y/n nation unite! we’re the siblings now!

user7: they’re so cute together, I can’t!!! 🥺

user5: I’m so sorry for him, he deserves someone better…

user2: yea, for example me!

[user5 blocked]

[user2 blocked]

user8: they’re my favorite couple now! and yeah, we’re all siblings now!

user6: good luck guys! 🍀don’t let the haters bring you down!

[ineffablesuffering]

There Must Be an Angel (Aziraphale x reader)

I'd like to thank @avocado-writing for the inspo for this fic. They recommended I add this song to my 80s playlist (because I totally forgot this song existed) and this fic was born! I think this is classed as a songfic? I'm not too sure, anyway enjoy! <3

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader

Warnings: unorganised bookshelves

Word count: 948 (short and sweet, might write a part 2?)

Masterlist

--------------------------------------

“Aziraphale?” you called as you walked through the door of the bookshop, the familiar comforting scent of dust, tea and incense filled your nostrils.

“Ah, Y/N! I was wondering when you would get here,” he said appearing from the back room. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, embracing you.

You gladly returned his embrace “I’m good thank you, how are you?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he smiled “Shall we get started?”

You had agreed to help Aziraphale organise his books after Jim/Gabriel (you never were sure what to call him) had attempted to sort them in his own unique way. It had been driving him up the wall as he could never find what he was looking for. You were more than happy to help out a friend in need, besides, you enjoyed his company. You nodded and let him show you where he wanted you to start.

“It’s been so frustrating trying to find anything since,” he stopped and sighed “I’m not even going to mention it because it just annoys me. If you want to start here with whatever this is, I’ll start over there,” he pointed to a bookshelf on the other side of the room.

“Sure!” you said cheerfully, “you don’t mind if I listen to some music while I work, do you? Helps me concentrate.”

“Not at all my dear,” he said with a smile, “whatever helps you.” He gave your shoulder a pat before walking off to where he would be working.

You smiled at him as he walked off, pulling your headphones out of your bag and connecting them to your phone. You selected a playlist and got started. The shelves were a disaster zone but at least they were all of the same genre otherwise it would have taken all day to fix whatever was going on. You began by gently taking off all the books from the shelves and placing them on a table nearby before deciding that it would be best to alphabetise by author. Getting stuck in, you bopped along to the music playing on your headphones, singing quietly to yourself every so often. The time passed rather quickly and soon you were on to a new section.

You decided to take the section next to the one where you had started and repeated the process. Taking books of the shelf, placing them on a table and reorganising them. You changed your playlist to an 80’s one and continued to sing along quietly. The smooth sounds of Eurythmics played through your ears. You smiled and continued to work. “I walk into an empty room, and suddenly my heart goes boom, it’s an orchestra of angels and they’re playing with my heart,” you sang.

Aziraphale stopped in the middle of putting a book back on the shelf a few aisles away. He could hear you singing softly to yourself almost as if you didn’t think anyone could hear you. You weren’t singing loudly but it was definitely loud enough for him to hear. He tilted his head slightly, not recognising the song but the fact that you were singing about angels definitely caught his attention. He peaked out from the bookshelf that he was organising and walked around to where you were working.

“I must be hallucinating watching angels celebrating,” you continued to sing.

He stopped when he reached you and stood and watched as you continued to sing softly, not noticing he was standing there. He watched with a soft smile on his lips, you seemed so content organising and singing. You continued to place book by book back on the shelf in an organised manner and he just watched. You started to sing what he assumed to be a different song.

“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing, I have no choice, I hear your voice feels like flying,” you sang.

Aziraphale leans slightly against the bookshelf just watching you. His eyes danced across your figure as you worked, he felt like he could watch you all day. You turned around ready to start on a new set of shelves and jump at the sight of Aziraphale watching you.

“Jesus Christ!” you said, getting a fright “I didn’t hear you come up behind me, is everything okay?” you laughed taking off your headphones.

Aziraphale chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you singing, you’ve got a lovely voice.”

You blushed and bashfully dropped your gaze to the ground. You hadn’t realised that you were singing loud enough for him to hear you. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Aziraphale stepped closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him.

“There’s no need to be shy my dear,” he smiles moving his hand from your chin to brush a finger across your cheek, almost appreciating the blush. “It was quite beautiful. Almost angelic.” You stood there, gaping at him. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. “What were you singing darling?” he asked softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh! Um what song?” you asked

“The last two just there.”

“Ah, so that was There Must Be an Angel and then the second one was called Like a Prayer.”  

“Hmm, I see,” he started “fitting do you not think?” Again, you were at a loss for words. What is going on? You thought to yourself. Aziraphale smiled at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tea?” he asked. You didn’t say a word as you found yourself staring at him as he walked away.

[tunastime]

hehe hi myke, thanks for sending this in my dms <3 here's your song! it's quelle suprise, which I originally read the lyrics wrong in because I don't speak french, but I think now after reading it. rarrrg. anyway! this is just such a bop, so not a lot of replays! I found it late in the year (and I know I sent it to you already lol)

(536 words)

There is something very wrong with Etho.

Or maybe there isn’t. Who’s Bdubs to know every thought inside his head, apparently? Who’s Bdubs to think he understands him? Bdubs is a red life now. The sludge of trigger fingers and loose cannons and live-wires all mingles with blood, hot and red, in his veins. It was always red, always hot, heightened now, to a dizzying sting. He can hear it thump around his head when he listens closely, hear it chanting for more. 

He’s starting to piece things together that he thinks maybe he shouldn’t. It’s hard. Bdubs sits on his hands, screwing up his face as he squeezes himself into a small space of his upside-down base. It’s hard trying to figure this out. What Etho's thinking. His heart feels like a creature begging to flee from his chest, slamming against the front half of his ribcage like it might break apart and let it out into the world. At the same time, that thumping hurts, because there’s an awful squeeze in his chest. He’s not been able to breathe right for a while. Probably since the moment Etho laughed at him before he went to kill that dragon.

That’s funny though, isn’t it? Etho promises things so easily, but when it comes time to deliver he’s always finding shortcuts. Like how he didn’t agree when Bdubs asked how much he would give for him? There was no equal half, was there?

Bdubs was making a mistake, wasn’t he? Wasn’t that the worst part?

Well maybe he wasn’t! Maybe Etho was more afraid of Cleo than he was Bdubs—of course he would side with someone who could help him the most. Certainly not dead weight. Which Bdubs assumed he was again. Though Joel and Martyn, and Mumbo when he was there, and Pearl even, were more than willing to help out with whatever needed to be done. And that was easy for them. So why couldn’t Etho say anything? Why couldn’t he just lie to him? What kind of game was Bdubs playing at, that Etho felt so confident that he would never have a task that asked him to twist the knife already in Bdubs’ chest? He’s sorry. He’s sorry. Etho didn’t ask him to put the knife there. He took it from Etho’s hands and put it in his chest and he thought maybe that would make things better, rather than worse.

It isn’t Etho’s fault. Etho’s playing his game. Bdubs knows that. So he’s not mad at him—well, he won’t be mad at him when he leaves the game and Etho crawls his way into his lap and presses his face to the juncture of his neck and says he’s sorry. Because he’s always sorry. Bdubs wonders if—no. No. Bdubs swallows down the taste in the back of his throat. He’s done wondering. And he’s done letting Etho’s excuses sit heavy in his chest like they might be armor instead of eating him alive.

He stands up, fishing the pocket watch from his pocket.

It’s still early. The cracked surface reflects back only a portion of his face.

For now, the clock stays intact. But Bdubs can imagine the satisfying crunch it might make when his heel grinds against it.

(spotify wrapped ask meme)

[danikamariewrites]

Hi I just recently found your blog and can I just say I love your writing so much! I spent most of my day reading your fics.

I saw your combined aesthetics fic and it gave me this idea. I was wondering if you could do a ruhn x reader? With the reader secretly liking heavy metal and rock music but nodoby could tell because she was very shy and sweet? So then one day Ruhn finds out and is surprised and you could maybe go from there?

You don't have to do it it was just something I thought of and thought that you would be a the perfect person to write this.

I’m with the Band

Ruhn x reader

A/n: Thank you anon, you're so sweet! Thank you for reading, I loved writng this it was so cute

Warnings: none

As you walk to Ruhn’s house from band practice you bop your head to the recording for the new song you rehearsed. Things were going great for you and the girls. You guys had never thought about actually doing gigs, it was just a silly thing Becca started in her garage. It’s been three years of you guys just jamming.

One night Becca’s neighbor knocked on the door. You thought he was going to yell for the music being too loud. It turned out the guy owns the White Raven and wanted to start doing live music on the weekends. The girls agreed and now Illogically Hotter is playing a second gig tomorrow night. You hadn’t told Ruhn yet. Not that you’re ashamed of your girls or your music, you’re just not ready for him to see you perform yet.

Stepping into the house you slip your headphone off your head resting them around your neck. Preparation for tonight’s party was in full swing. Dec was setting up the beer pong table while Tharion and Flynn brought kegs in from the kitchen.

Ruhn skids to a halt in front of you, sporting that wild boyish grin. “Hey baby,” he says happily pulling you into a loving hug. You hug him back tighter burying your face in his chest. “Hey Ru. Missed you.” Ruhn kisses your forehead with a loud smack. “I’m gunna go upstairs and get ready.” He nods at you as you take the stairs two at a time to his room.

Ripping off your sweaty shirt you let out a relived sigh. You went way too hard on the drums tonight. You pull out your oversized Banshee shirt that people always mistake as Ruhn’s along with your ripped jeans. Maybe you will tell Ruhn about your band tonight.

Ruhn plops down on the couch throwing his arm over your shoulder. He’s followed by Hunt, who looks as smug as your boyfriend, Ithan and Flynn who look defeated. Clearly sour at the fact they lost another round of beer pong.

Bryce giggles, “Aww sore losers again?” She teases. Flynn rolls his eyes at her. “You play them and see if you’re laughing after.”

A Banshee song comes on over the speakers. A rarity that the playlist strays from pop or house music unless you get your hands on whoever’s phone is in control. You start bopping your head and humming along, drumming your fingers on your thighs.

Flynn squints at you. “You like this song y/n?” You nod, “Yeah, I’m a big Banshee fan. I love rock, punk, heavy metal, all that stuff.” His jaw drops. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you and retreat into Rhun’s side praying his shadows could swallow you up. “What! I thought you were our resident pop princess.”

You shake your head, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Actually,” you drawl shyly looking up at Ruhn, “you know Becca, Laurel, and Vesper? We have a rock band.” It was Ruhn’s turn to be surprised. You saw hurt briefly flash in his eyes. He quickly recovered, shooting you that boyish grin. The group bombarded you with questions about what instrument you play, how long have you been in a band, and where you’re playing. Ruhn didn’t say a word the whole time. Your heart beat from the anxiety of the love of your life being mad at you.

Hours later you and Ruhn were getting ready for bed in uncomfortable silence. Climbing into bed you let out a sigh. It felt good to finally lay down. Ruhn turns on his side facing you. You try to ignore his gaze that’s burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The hurt in his voice made you wince. Turning to look at Ruhn your heart breaks at the frown on his lips, his usual brilliant blue eyes dim. You reach out to gently stroke his face. “I’m sorry.” You whisper. “I was going to but then I got nervous. Then my mind was telling me you wouldn’t like it, so I don’t know.”

“Baby how could I ever hate anything you do? You’re perfect to me.” You give him a small smile, cuddling into his side. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Ruhn hugged you tighter to his chest rubbing your back. “It’s ok baby.”

The next morning you had made the stress inducing decision to invite Ruhn and your friends to see Ilogically Hotter at the White Raven. You spent the afternoon practicing with the girls trying not to worry about Ruhn watching you play drums and sing.

You did have to take a break at one point becuase of how stressed you got. Becca ran you to the bathroom because you thought you were going to vomit. After Becca calmed you down and got food in your stomach you felt better.

Laurel and Vesper were getting pumped when you finally came out of the empty back office the band uses as a dressing room. "Are you ready y/n!" "Yeah!" You shook out your arms then teh rest of your body to dispel your nerves. Taking a deep breath you decide to let go and pretend Ruhn and all your freinds are not in the audience watching you.

Vesper dragged you into the group huddle to do your little chant that she decided was now the pre-show ritual.

No turning back now.

Ruhn was picking at his fingers in anticipation. He decided it would be best to stay at a table on the edge of the crowd so you wouldn't be too nervous seeing him. But he was excited. The energy from the crowd wass electric.

He swore he heard a few people say that they came back to see you guys again. That made Ruhn smile. Gods how could you keep this from him?

Bryce grabbed at his fingers pressing them against the hardwood table. "Stop that." She said sternly, raising a brow at him. "Sorry, I'm just nervous."

"Don't be." Dec said plopping drinks down on the table. "They're going to be great. Y/n is going to be great. And no matter what you'll support her." Ruhn nodded at his friend as the spot lights started to strobe. The rest of the group huddled around the table taking a drink.

Ruhn didn't take his eyes off the stage for a second. He was too enamoured by you. How you whipped your hair around as you bounced around in your sweet. The prince even made sure to listen to your background vocals. It was rare that you sang in front of him so he was going to cherish this moment.

When the hour long set was done Ruhn raced to find you. He needed to tell you how amazing you were or he felt like he was going to explode.

You were happily screaming with the girls over another successful gig when you sensed Ruhn coming. You looked over your shoulder just in time to see him push the curtain back. You gave him a huge smile that he returned as you both ran at each other.

You launched yourself into his open arms and Ruhn spun you around. Putting you down he held your shoulders to jokingly shake you. "Wow, wow, wow! I didn't know you were so talented! All of you." You stare into his bright eyes, twinkling with happiness and admiration. "Really?" "Yes really!" He pulled you into another bone crushing hug leaving a kiss on your sweaty head.

For the first time in a long time you felt truly like yourself. The fact that Ruhn was not only embracing this side of you, but fully supporting you was more than you could ask for.

tags: @callmeblaire

[anothertransauthor]

heyy so nice to see a new author in the mtl tag ♡ ～('▽^人)

how good are the boys at dancing? from best to worst

would they agree to dance with their s/o? when and where?

(I'd love if you added charles too if that isn't too many people heh)

Hi I love asks like these!!! I’m happy to be in the mtl tag! I haven’t felt so compelled to write since undertale (that’s a LONG TIME!!!)

Oh guys you better hold onto your pants because I have a fucking tierlist for all the characters coming up!

Anyways onto the dancing!

If you’re looking for a nice night on the town, you better ask Pickles or Charles! Not only do they know the best spots in town (though drastically different for the both of them) they will absolutely show you off! Pickles I feel like would love to dance in general, it’s the liquid courage in his veins. Someone should have taken him to prom, this man can boogie down in a rusty club. He likes to go with the flow and if that’s the kind of night you’re looking for then have a few drinks with pickles!

However if you want a more put together date, then Charles is your man. Fancy rides, expensive dinners, futuristic clubs. He’s watching your every move as you dance, he could make your silhouette out in a crowd instantly. Watch him if he drinks with you, he will get silly. If you like secretly perverted dorks, then take Charles dancing. That man knows how to move.

Skwisgaar would take some major convincing. But when you finally convinced him to take you dancing you didn’t expect what him to be so sensual. Who are you kidding of course you did, but that didn’t stop the shivers from running down your spine anytime he touched you…his hands smoothly covering your hips just so he could hook his thumbs into your belt loops and pull you right where he wanted you… he looked at you like you were the only one on the dance floor, something unspoken behind his eyes—

What was I talking about again-? it would most likely be a while before you could convince him to go out like that again-

Those other goobers are not grooving! 👎👎👎👎

Nathan poor fella can’t carry a rhythm to save his life. The most he could do for you was a slow dance in his room, even then he’d be a little hesitant. Mushy love songs definitely were not brutal. But you liked them…he could pretend for a few minutes just to see you smile.

Toki the lad tries, but I imagine he looks like the freestyle dance teacher! ʰᵉˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵉᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ YOUR ˢʰᵒᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ/ᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵉˢ.

The two of you were just fine singing the songs to your hearts content instead!

Murderface straight up refuses. He knows he can’t dance and can’t stand to make a fool of himself around you. The most you’ve ever gotten was a head bop or a foot tap…if you were lucky BOTH!! It’s a shame he’s so stubborn, he’s definitely caught you in the act of dancing around when you thought you were alone, but you looked great when you did it!

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 7: Celebrate Good Times, C'mon

Word Count: 726

Rating: G

Pairing: minor hellcheer

CW: alcohol consumption

Summary: It's Jeff's wedding and the guys are wasted. Thank you @munson-blurbs for coming up with the perfect song 👌🏻

@corrodedcoffinfest

“Carry on my wayward son! There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to reeeeest. Don’t you cry no more!”

“Bah dah duh dah, duh duh duh duh!”

Eddie strums his air guitar while Gareth whips his arms around as if he were drumming to the song.

The number of guests trickled down as the evening rolled into night. But the fierce foursome is still going strong, alcohol and pure joy fueling them. 

A few others are scattered on the dance floor of the Hampton Inn banquet hall. But Jeff, Gareth, Eddie, and Frank are definitely the life of the party right now.

Jeff’s wife—as of four hours ago—giggles as she watches from a table with a couple of her bridesmaids. 

“Are they always like this?” one of the bridesmaids asks the bride, Anna. 

“If they’re all together with alcohol and music? Oh yeah,” Anna confirms. She nods her head towards Chrissy next to her and says to her friend, “You should have seen them at their wedding.”

“Oh my God,” Chrissy says with a laugh. She shakes her head at the memory, still amused by it. “I didn’t even get to spend my own wedding night with my husband! I kept waiting for Eddie in our hotel room only to find him in Gareth’s room, all four of them passed out on the same bed.”

The song changes and Frank gasping is heard above all.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I love this song!”

Eddie wrinkles his nose up as he sways back and forth. He looks at his friend and shakes his head.

“It’s Cher.” 

“Oh, come on,” Jeff slurs, slapping Eddie on the back. “Everyone loves this song.”

“Yeah,” Gareth adds. He pokes Eddie in the chest, right below the two buttons that the taller man popped open after his first drink. “Don’t be all metal snobby on us. We all heard the Madonna at your wedding.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but finds the action makes him dizzy and stumbles a step in his inebriated state. 

“That wasn’t my choice, Gareth the Great,” he says. “It’s not my fault my wife is a pop princess!”

The chorus of the song approaches, and Frank knows Eddie is just acting all tough and this will end with him singing it out with them. So, he takes his friend by the shoulders and shakes him back and forth a few times.

“Come ooooon!” Frank says. “Sing it with us. You know you want to.”

A smile slowly curls up the corners of Eddie’s mouth.

“Alright,” he agrees. “For Jeff.”

“Uh huh,” Gareth hums, not buying it. “For Jeff.”

The beat thrums through the speakers and all four friends bop up and down to it, waiting for their moment.

“IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME! IF I COULD FIND A WAY!”

Eddie slings one arm around Jeff’s neck and one around Frank’s. Jeff tugs Gareth over and tucks the shortest band member under his arm as the four of them begin to sway side to side as they belt out the tune. 

“I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU AND YOU’D STAY!”

They finish out the chorus like that and by the time the next chorus comes around, they’re all jumping up and down like they’re in a mosh pit. Eddie’s curls are swinging wildly all over the place while Gareth headbangs with enough enthusiasm that he’s going to end up with a sore neck tomorrow. 

“God, this is so much fun!” Jeff says. 

“Can't wait ‘til we get to do this again!” Frank agrees.

Gareth chuckles and nudges Frank’s arm with his own.

“Means you gotta propose to Sheila.”

Frank shrugs and looks around.

“Alright. Where is she?”

“No!” Eddie and Jeff shout at the same time, pulling their friend back as he tries to walk off of the dance floor. 

Their tuxes have all seen better days—or better hours, just today before the alcohol was busted out, but Gareth would bet good money that none of the guys who have rented these tuxes before had half as much fun in them.

“Let’s finish this out together,” Jeff says. 

The guys all grin at one another, getting ready to put all their energy into it. Just have to wait for the right moment.

1…2…3…

“IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME!”