#if you don’t like Stevie Nicks go away

[daddysroyalwhore]

“I turned around

And the water was closing all around

Like a glove

Like the love that had finally, finally found me

Then I knew

In the crystalline knowledge of you

Drove me through the mountains

Through the crystal-like a clear water fountain

Drove me like a magnet

To the sea”

[ace-turned-confused]

spin me around | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist | read on ao3

summary: you find a vintage record store full of rare finds, the man behind the counter the rarest of them all word count: 2,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a dress, way too much music talk, food & alcohol consumption, pet names, touching in public, dirty talk a/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! i saw record store on your wheel and ran away with it - this is highly self-indulgent with the music references (like woah) but what better place for it than secret springs :) not beta'd, keep slaying

The stair treads creak as you head up to the second floor, blank CDs are fastened to the risers and old warped vinyl hangs from the ceiling. A faint melody floats down the stairwell that you don’t recognise, the instrumentals rising in a crescendo as you climb, the varnished railing worn and knotted.

You’d found this place online on your quest for a bargain, the secondhand vintage vinyl shop is situated on a fashionable street at the top of town with picturesque mountain views. After stalking their social media pages, you decided you’d just come and see it for yourself. Having mentally prepared yourself for parallel parking, it was unusually stress-free for a Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to warm the air.

Reaching the landing and glancing around, the room is essentially wallpapered with band posters, crates and crates of records are alphabetically organised, and a gallery of LPs sits on shelves behind the counter. A few customers are rifling through the various collections, one man perched on a barstool with headphones wired into a cassette player. The space is light and vibrant, it feels like a sacred haven.

What really catches your eye is the man behind the counter — unruly silver-streaked hair, trimmed moustache and greying beard, unreasonably broad shoulders that fill out his faded thin t-shirt.

“Mornin’!” He looks up as you round the bannister and flashes you a winning smile, his brown eyes sparkling in the light filtering through the windows. “Anythin’ in particular you lookin’ for?”

You greet him shyly as you enter the room, “Just came to look around, thanks.”

“No problem.” He turns back to his newspaper and you can’t help but stare, stuck in place as you think you’ve found far more than you could’ve imagined.

-

The sheer number of records fitted into the quaint shop is amazing, with some dividers spilling over into two or three boxes. Flipping through the S category, you find Sade, Stealers Wheel, Steppenwolf, Stevie Nicks, and countless others — a never-ending supply of artists and albums, some popular and some obscure.

Your eyes go wide at seeing Pretzel Logic, a favourite album by a favourite band. You’ve considered for weeks whether or not to just buy the damn thing online at full price, but you never did. Now you see why, some sort of divine intervention leading you here to snatch it up at a fraction of the cost — or it led you here for that man.

You’ve been peering over to him every time you move to the next crate — crinkles around his eyes, plush lips, deft hands. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is, hidden away up here from the rest of the world. Admittedly you tried looking if he had a wedding band on, but you scolded yourself before you could complete the task, not wanting to get caught.

Time slips away from you as you switch between scouring through everything and stealing glances at the mystery music man, your fingers cramping from holding onto far more records than you’d planned to take. You scan over the tables and check for anything you may have missed, slinking through the room and placing your selection on the counter. You rummage in your bag to find your wallet.

“Fan of Steely Dan, huh? Gaucho, Pretzel Logic, Countdown to Ecstasy… You’re cleaning me out here, darlin’.” You lift your head at his words, losing yourself at the endearment.

“Yeah, uh… couldn't help myself,” you huff a laugh, feeling heat under your skin as he keeps his attention on you, a half smile on his face. “I did pick out some others, too. For some variation, you know?”

He fans the records out on the table to see each one.

“Yeah, thought you might be a Fleetwood Mac girl, Eagles is a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one… Steely Dan, though? Wouldn't have pinned a girl like you as a fan of ‘em.”

“A girl like me…?”

“Far too pretty.” He winks at you with a tilt of his head, that half smile now spread fully across his face before he moves to add up the total. Your mind races as you try not to stand and gawk like an idiot.

“I saw online you had Dark Side of the Moon… do you uh, still have it, by any chance?”

“Full of surprises… I’m afraid we sold that one already, noticed it’s a bit of an elusive find ‘round here.” He drums his fingers against the wooden top and looks at you briefly, his eyes warm.

Shuffling papers around, he picks up a notepad, big hands and thick fingers dwarfing the pages. “I can keep an eye out for you, if you’re okay giving me your number? Won’t bother you, just business.”

“Yeah, sure.” His fingers graze across your skin as you take a pen from him and write down your information. Tearing the page off, you slide it across the counter and tease him, “Wouldn’t mind if you bothered me.”

“Well then, maybe I will. I’d love to know what else you got in your carefully curated collection.” He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you pay for the records, and he slips them into a brown paper bag, folding and unfolding the top like he doesn’t want you to leave.

“There’s actually this nice restaurant—” he turns to look behind him, grabbing a small carton and repositioning it on the counter, stalling as he tries to find the words, “—they have uh, live music on Friday nights… if you’d be interested.”

“Sounds fun…” You mull it over, impressed by his boldness but still wary. “Can I let you know?”

“‘Course, no pressure, here,” he writes his own number on a new page and tears it off, holding on as you reach for it and brush your fingers over his hand.

“And you are?”

“Joel Miller.”

Joel Miller. You quite like that.

-

You’d stared at Joel’s number for days, a constant back and forth on whether or not you should go. On the one hand, you knew nothing about this man except his name and where he worked; on the other, you’ve seen just enough of him to be well intrigued… 

You caved and said yes, which brings you to the present day — it’s Friday afternoon and you’re pacing in front of your wardrobe, worried about what to wear. To avoid losing your mind over this, you text Joel for some insight.

You: So, what am I supposed to wear tonight?Joel: Place is smart casual, I guess

Smart casual — arguably the worst fucking dress code description in existence.

You: That doesn’t help meJoel: Just wear a dress or something nice? I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect

Perfect? Well, that certainly raises the bar. You suspect that Joel isn’t impressed by material things, and isn’t phased by flashy appearances, but you still want to make an effort. He called you pretty once already and you’re hoping he’ll repeat it tonight.

-

Approaching the restaurant, the brick wall facade is lined with fairy lights, the stars just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, and muffled music sounds through the windows and glass doors.

Joel waits out on the pavement like a gift from God himself — black dress pants, a hint of chest peeking out from behind his button-up, a blazer hooked on one finger over his shoulder. You can’t help the way your gaze runs over him, noticing how his tummy just pokes out past the waistband of his pants, and just how well fitting those pants really are. You swallow to steady yourself.

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

You fall into silence as you take each other in — a low heat settles at the base of your spine and you drop your eyes to the floor, holding back a giggle like an enamoured schoolgirl.

“Shall we?” He pulls the door open and gestures for you to lead the way, eyes sparkling and a crooked but warm smile on his face, a guiding hand on the small of your back as you step inside.

Black-framed minimalist posters line the walls, the floors are polished dark wood and exposed brass light fixtures hang at varying heights from the ceiling. You pass a long, elegant bar lining one side of the room as you’re led towards the back of the restaurant — this place oozes sophistication, even the waitstaff are in fancy uniforms. Not smart casual.

Joel pulls a chair out for you as you reach your table, a small reserved card rests against a floating candle and two red roses bloom in a slender vase. 

“Do you mind if I take the wall?” you ask timidly, pointing towards the opposite bench.

“Not at all.” His gaze is soft as he shakes his head, eyes trained on you as you both take your seats.

“I just— I like being able to see, it’s uh…”

You smooth your hands over the tablecloth as your voice fades off, resisting the urge to make a game of blowing the candle out. You flit your eyes up to look at Joel, finding he’s already staring at you, candlelight flickering in his eyes. You drop your gaze to the table again, failing dismally at suppressing the grin that spreads across your face.

“You look gorgeous, by the way — if you don’t mind me sayin’. Knew you would, of course, but…”

It seems your outfit choice has paid off — gorgeous?

After hours of flinging clothes off hangers, you’d finally settled on a black, mid-length dress — a sweetheart neckline with white piping, the same white mirrored on the hem, a daring slit up one side of the skirt. There’s nothing casual about it, but seeing Joel dressed up and the finely decorated restaurant has calmed your nerves.

You don’t dare look at him again as the waiter returns and places two menus on the table. The night’s barely begun, and you hope it doesn’t end any time soon.

-

There hasn’t been a lull in the conversation once during dinner, a sharing dessert now in the centre of the table as Joel swirls what’s left of his whiskey around the glass. He held back all evening, fingers twitching and curling into a loose fist alongside yours on the table until he finally allowed himself to dance them across the back of your hand.

“How’d you get into all this record business?”

“Started workin’ there on weekends as a kid, wanted to earn some pocket money. The old man who owned it was like a mentor, he taught me all about the world. He left it all in my hands when he retired, and I’ve never looked back.”

A fond smile on his face as he retells his memories, you saw the first day you met how happy and comfortable he was in his charming shop, and it seems that charm bleeds over into him, too.

“And you get to meet all kinds of people — loud, friendly, aloof… pretty ones, too.” He gives you the same wink and devilish grin as before, continuing his stories as if you aren’t burning across the table.

-

Sometime during the night, he’d moved to sit next to you, claiming he ‘wanted to see the band’ — the arm draped on the bench behind you and fingers trailing across your shoulder says otherwise.

He mentioned at the shop that there was live music here on Friday nights — the one thing he didn’t mention? That tonight’s particular band was a jazz quartet — the slow, smooth, romantic kind of jazz, the kind that acts as the perfect backdrop for a night of cheeky flirting, lingering glances and desperate touches.

“Joel, can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

You roll the edge of the tablecloth between your fingers. “Is this a date?”

“It can be, if you want.” You drop your hands and eye him, unimpressed by his response.

“Alright, I’ll admit, I was hopin’ for a date. I wasn’t really sure how to ask, didn’t wanna come on too strong.”

You’re silent for a beat, considering how to respond. “I mean, you could’ve just asked.”

“Well then, you wanna go on a date?” He tilts his head, eyebrows raised.

“I thought we were already on one.”

He chuckles at your remark, downing the last of his whiskey and momentarily tracing a finger along the rim of the glass. You focus on his movements, imagining his fingers tracing patterns into your skin instead.

As if he can read your mind, he twists himself towards you and plants that same hand just above your knee, fingers curled towards the inside of your leg as he scrapes his nails against you.

“And?” His voice is almost a whisper in your ear, “Has it been a good one?”

He glides his hand up your leg and into the slit of your dress as you nod, higher, higher, higher until his fingers brush against lace. You wonder if he can feel the fabric dampening.

“Y’know the Pink Floyd you asked about? It wasn’t sold, I kept it for myself. I’ll play it for you sometime.”

“You’re gonna talk about music? Right now?”

“What should I talk about instead? The delicate panties you got on? How wet they’re getting?”

Your breath hitches as he shifts his fingers, tucking them just under the edge of your panties and caressing your skin. Glancing around, the band are still playing low and slow, most tables having cleared out by now.

“Would love to see ‘em, if you’ll let me. I’d really love to see what’s underneath though. Pretty girl like you’s bound to have a real pretty pussy, too. Certainly feels like it, Jesus.”

He presses his fingers into you with more force this time and you turn your head to him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and not from the dim lighting. He glances down to your lips and back up to your eyes again and you close the distance between you. He repositions the arm around your shoulders, hand holding the back of your neck as you lock your legs together and grind yourself against him.

His lips are soft, beard and moustache tickling your skin as he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth. You moan into him as you part your lips, letting him lick into you and you can taste his whiskey. He pulls back and you whine, teasing you with just enough to leave you reeling for more.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel. Please, I need you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna hear the music you can make.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

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

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[strniohoeee]

Please? For me

REQUEST: chris and nick catching matt and reader doing it and confronting them. they used to hate eachother but one night they finally figure out that they like eachother but they get caught

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Why was y/n in Matt’s room entertaining him if she hated him so much? The world may never know…

Warning⚠️: SMUTTT, toxic ish?? Idek tbh. I hate this so proceed with caution 😔

Song for imagine: You Know I’m No Good- Any Winehouse

I cheated myself

Like I knew I would

I told you I was trouble

You know that I’m no good

If there’s a God out there please turn a blind eye to this. This seems like a poor judgment of character, but I have my reasons. We all fall to sin sometimes….don't we??

“Hellooooo bitchessss” I yell as I close the front door and walk up the stairs

“Why are you screaming?” Matt asks me coming out of his room with his headphones slung around his neck and his controller in his hand

“I wasn’t screaming just making my presence known” I said trotting into the kitchen area

“Trust me we know when you’re here” he said offering me a sarcastic smile

“Jerk…anyways I’m not here for you I’m here for your brothers” I said rolling my eyes at him

“They’re not home” he said in a duh tone

“Not home? They told me to come over” I said looking down at my phone and seeing no messages from Nick or Chris

“Well they decided to step out for a moment don’t know what to tell you” he said turning on his heels

“Thanks crabby pants” I said huffing at him

“Anytime connect 4” he said with malice on his tongue as he shut his door behind him

Flashback

Looking in the mirror as I pressed more powder onto my face.

“God damnit!” I shout throwing the powder and brush down

Rushing over to my bathroom and turning the light on, stomping over to the mirror and looking in the mirror. My face dropped in horror at the sight.

Four huge pimples on either side of my face just days before my 17th birthday. I was throwing a party and I invited pretty much the whole school and this one guy I had a crush on.

I could not make a move on him with these mountains on my face. I vigorously scrubbed the makeup off my face and went to school….red, in pain and embarrassed

Flashback Over

“What the fuck did you just call me?” I say walking to his door and barging in

“Woah! Knock” he says ripping the headset off

“What the hell did you just call me asshole” I said louder as I shoved his shoulder

“Relax it wasn’t that serious” he said shoving my hand away

Flashback

I stared in my bathroom mirror as my party went on. The huge pimples so painful and red I couldn’t even touch it, so even attempting to cover them was out of the question

Already getting weird looks and my crush sitting in my room made me a bit more nauseous. I tried my best to put on a strong suit and walk out. Smoothing out my pants as I inhaled and walked to my bedroom.

“Hey Stevie” I said strolling into my room

“Y/N! Hey! Oh and happy birthday” he said looking at me

“Thank you” I said smiling at him at him before sitting down next to him

“Awesome party by the way” he said awkwardly laughing

“Uhh thanks” I said too getting awkward

He went to open his mouth but my door busted open, to a very giggly Matt walking in.

“WOAHH my bad” he said before realizing it was me

“Matt get out” I said glaring him down

“Did I interrupt something?” He asked growing a smirk

“Get the fuck out” I said rolling my eyes

“Stevie? You and Y/N?” He said furrowing his brows and pointing between the both of us

“Oh nah man” he said laughing a bit

To enraged and embarrassed to even realize what Stevie had just said.

“Matt I said GET OUT” I blared out

“Not a problem and don’t think Stevie’s going to actually like you back I mean not when he can play connect 4 on your face” Matt said bluntly

My face dropped and my heart fell to my stomach. Anger and pain lurking inside me.

Stevie laughed before getting up, looking over his shoulder at me and giving a quick nod of his head and then walking out as he patted Matt on the shoulder.

“You’re such a dick” I said with a lump in my throat

“You’re not so innocent yourself sweetheart” he replied

“Is that all you do? Huh? Walk around ruining everything around you?” I said as tears ran down my face

“Get a grip would you…the world doesn’t revolve around Y/N” he said before slamming my door shut.

That was the last time I ever talked to Matt. My hatred grew for him as each day passed. Connect 4 became my new nickname for the last two years of high school.

Flashback Over

“Relax? Matt you ruined my life by calling me that” I said blinking at him

“Ruined your life? Please give me a break the world doesn’t stop just because you got your feelings hurt 4 years ago” he said throwing his controller down on his desk

“It may not seem like it to you, but you ruined my only chance with that one guy I liked a lot. That is why I hate you” I said crossing my arms over my chest

“You know why I hate you? Because you acted so untouchable throughout middle school and high school. Sweating you were all that and someone had to humble you and unfortunately for you that someone was me” he said shrugging his shoulders

“You taint everything around you, do you know that? You act all high and mighty like you’re untouchable now and guess it’s time for someone to humble you, and that someone will be me” I said with a straight face

“Is that so?” He said standing up and mocking my stance

“Yes it is” I said staring into his eyes

“I hate you” he said spitting his words like venom

“The feelings mutual pal” I said rolling my eyes

“God you’re such a bitch” he replied back

“Is that all you have? I’m a bitch, I’m stuck up, you hate me blah blah blah it’s always the same shit with you” I said motioning with my hands

“Shut up” he said shoving me back

“Don’t put your hands on” I said pushing him back

“Or what? Gonna cry and hate me some more?” He said taunting as he poked me

“I could punch you in the face right now” I said as my nostrils flared

“So then do it. One shot” he said tapping the side of his face

“What a fucking idiot” I said staring at him

“Come on hit me” he said pushing me

“Stop it” I said brushing his hands off

“No no you hate me so much then hit me” he replied pushing me some more

“I fucking said stop” I replied pushing him

I turned around to walk out when Matt grabbed my arm. Without thinking I turned and smacked him. Immediately regretting my choices

His eyes widened and he pushed me up against the wall

“God if I didn’t hate you so much I’d actually really think you’re pretty” he said breathing heavily

“Yeah and if you weren’t such a dick I’d actually think you’re hot” I said rolling my eyes at him

“Fuck I hate you” he said gritting his teeth together

“Do you hate me or do you hate the fact that I never picked you….did you hate that I always found someone better? Hmm?” I replied taunting him

“You wish” he spat back

“I know how you really feel that hatred is called jealousy” I said laughing at him

Matt’s eye twitched a bit as his breathing became heavy. His eyes darted from my lips back to my eyes when suddenly his lips crashed to mine.

Immediately the kiss became hungry….so sloppy and hot nothing but teeth and tongue. Fuck he was such a good kisser I hated this

Finally I shoved him off of me, breathing heavy as I stared him down

“What the fuck” I said wiping my mouth like I didn’t just enjoy what went on

“Does that answer your question?” He said his eyes dark and half lidded

“Fuck you” I spat at him

“I’m planning on it” he said with an evil smirk

Immediately I rushed over to him crashing our lips together again causing him to fall into his chair and I leaned down with him. Keeping our lips connected as his hands came up to caress my face.

Pulling away I looked down at Matt as I removed my sweater leaning back down to pepper kisses from his jawline down to his neck.

“Gonna suck my cock? Use that big mouth of yours for something good?” He asked as he looked down at me

“Why should I?” I said sinking down to my knees

“Please? For me” he said biting his lip as his breathing began to quicken

No matter how much I hated him or thought I hated him I could not deny the burning desire I currently had for this man. My body ached for him…it craved him and I needed to satisfy that hunger.

Removing my shirt as Matt did the same, our eyes locking the whole time.

I stuck my hands in the waistband of his pants sliding them down as he lifted his hips to help me out. His erection slapping his lower stomach as my thighs clenched.

“I guess you act the way you do since your dick is huge” I said looking up at him

“Shut up” he said offering a breathless laugh

I rolled my eyes at him before grabbing his dick. Swirling my tongue around the tip before sinking my head down.

His lower abdomen was tightening as his lower lip went in between his teeth. His right hand came to my scalp and grabbed at the roots.

“Fuck” he mummbled out, hissing as I came back up to the tip sucking on it gently

“Holy fucking baby” he moaned out throwing his head back

Bobbing my head up and down while my hand worked on what couldn’t fit into my mouth. Slurping and hollowing out my cheeks like there was no tomorrow

“Please please get up” he said moaning loudly

“I have to fuck you” he said before pulling me off of him

I stood before him, a man whom I hated yet I was undressing for him??

I slid my pants off before straddling his lap, the creak of his gaming chair scaring me a bit, but nonetheless continuing.

Matt removed my bra for me before attaching his lips to my left breast. Looking up at me through his lashes as I looked down. My lower lip in between my teeth and my hips mindlessly rocked against him

“Fuck Matt” I moaned out running my hands through his hair as he moved to my other breast

Kissing from my collar bones, to my breast and to the valley of my breast.

“When’s you get this tattoo” he asked me referring to the dagger in between my breasts

“About a year ago” I said as his hands massaged my breasts

“I like it wish you showed me when you got it” he said winking at me

“You pervert” I replied laughing

He smiled at me before connecting our lips together. Moving his hands to my ass massaging the skin before helping me grind down against him.

“Matt I need you now” I replied moaning at the feeling

Matt helped me up a bit by pushing my underwear to the side and lining himself up. Slowly helping me sink down on him.

Our mouths dropped at the feeling as I began to grind against him.

“I know this may seem like the wrong time to say this, but I never hated you. I hated that you never liked me” he said hissing as I began to slowly bounce on him

“You never gave me a chance to like you” I replied in a half moan

“I knew you’d never go for a guy like me that why I sabotaged you and Stevie” he replied kissing my shoulder

“I never went for you after that because I thought you were a douche, and you were” I said back

“I’m sorry about it” he said looking up at me

“It’s okay what’s done is done and look if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t be riding your dick right now, now would I?” I said biting my bottom lip and I began to grind down on him

“Fuck” he replied shutting his eyes before nodding his head

Matt helped me bounce up and down on his dick, breathy moans escaping our lips as the chair below us creaked.

Nicks POV

“Chris would you shut the door like you’re not even helping with bags” I say getting frustrated with my brother

“SORRY” he said laughing as he shut the door

We walked up the stairs and placed the bags on the living room floor.

“Where’s Y/N?” Chris asked

“Uhhh is she here?” I asked looking up from digging through one of my bags

“Yeah her purse is on the table” Chris said nodding at me

“Oh my god do you think she and Matt are actually getting along?” I asked Chris

“LETS GO SEE” he said getting excited

“Let me grab her gift I got her” I replied as I dug through the target back and pulled out the pillow I got her

We walked over to Matt’s room

I was bouncing on Matt’s dick as we held eye contact and our jaws slack as we began to get close to our orgasm.

“Fuck baby” I moaned out my hands grabbed at the back of his head

“I’m so cl-

Suddenly the door busted open

“OH MY GOD” Chris yelled

Matt and I stopped looking over at the bedroom door in utter shock

“Holy fuck there’s no way” Chris said frozen in shock

“SORRY” Nick yelled before slamming the door shut

Matt and I looked at each other in shock and embarrassment. The moment was totally ruined. We groaned and got up redressing ourselves before having to do the walk of shame.

We stepped out of Matt’s room and into the living room.

“I’m sorry guys” I said looking at Nick and Chris

“I’m actually scarred for life….my brother fucking my best friend and sworn nemesis” Nick said covering his eyes

“It’s not like that” Matt and I both said

“What’s it like then” Chris said laughing

“Well umm you see we talked it out and then one thing led to the next and then you guys showed up” Matt replied

“I mean I’m so happy you guys don’t hate each other, but I don’t know maybe next time lock the door, or don’t do that?” Nick said

“We’re sorry” I replied to Nick

“No it’s okay I’m just I’m just scarred is all…. I’m going to uhhh go sit in my room and attempt to burn this moment out of my brain” Nick said shuffling up the stairs

“I mean hey good for yall, so uhh I’ll leave you guys alone now and uhh I’ll call if I need you” Chris said awkwardly nodding at us before going down to his room

Matt and I turned to each other laughing about what just took place before heading back to his room. Where things eventually took place….

The End

I hopeee you guys liked this one. I hated it, not shocked. My writing is such ass lately but I’m trying to work on that 😭😭. Love yall and WERE AT 1,820 FOLLOWERS LIKE WHATTTTT🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[prozacwhorehouse]

cooper adams (the butcher) headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

first are just a few general ones bc I can’t really think of this man without it being nsfw🙈🙈

PLEASE go easy on me!! i have never written smut before so i hope it’s good 🙏🙏

barely proofread but readable

- probably an incredible cook. when he cooks, it comes out looking like a professionally made meal. id think it looks and tastes so perfect because he needs it to be perfect - probably throws it away if he adds so much as a grain to many of salt and starts over.

- listens to a lot of 80s music. from bon jovi and madonna to hall and oates and stevie nicks, he’ll always belt out to words in the worst singing voice you’ve ever heard in the car with the windows down, embarrassing riley and logan.

- house is always clean. bed always perfectly made, clothes neatly folded in drawers in colored order. (judging by the way we saw him fix that towel in the bathroom, everything at home needs to look perfect)

- we all know this already, but dad of the year!! fucking loves his kids. always attended riley’s tea parties, raced cars with logan.

- i can’t say that he loves his wife. he seemed more mad to get caught, more than it was his wife who sold him out and who he’d never see again. probably only still with rachel for his kids - he loves them too much and wouldn’t want to complicate their lives, which become complicated in a worse way when he’s caught.

- brings you little gifts all the time. maybe a book you’ve been talking about wanting to read, or a book he recommends to you. if you don’t know he’s the butcher, he’d bring the book to cure your boredom at work, or if you do know he’s the butcher, to keep you entertained while you’re locked in one of his houses 😕

nsfw headcannons 18+, minors dni!!

pretty much just filth

- hires hookers on the reg. like he just has an anger that he can’t show at home, so why not pay a woman to take it 😍on the other hand he’s probably killed multiple of them, couldn’t help himself

- probably wouldn’t kill you. would threaten you with the idea just to scare you, but he wouldn’t. he loves you, he needs you.

- you’re his and only his!! say hello to your new home (one of the houses he bought solely for the purpose of secretly keeping someone I mean you there)😜😜!!

- d word. you have to call him that he won’t accept anything else sorry!! he has control, like i said you belong to him

- brat!tamer through and through!!

- manhandles you he will throw you around on the bed no problem. flipping you on to your back, stomach, what not, moving you if the position you’re in isn’t quite up to his standards, he will move you with FORCE. you’re his toy and let’s be real you’re okay with that

- if youre annoying him he will grab you, throw you on the bed, hold you down, tie your wrists and ankles together, and a scarf is shoved in your mouth and tied harshly behind your head, and he’ll just leave you there. “be quiet,” he slams the door. he can hear your muffled cries from down the hall, but you were distracting him from his work so what other choice did he have than to punish you 🥴

- he’ll come back when he’s done working, could be hours later. he opens the door and you’re laying on the bed, eyes slowly falling shut above your tear streaked cheeks. he comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to stroke your cheek with his thumb. your eyes flutter open, a small whimper escaping from around the scarf. “i hope you’ve learned your lesson. about distracting me while i work. now should i leave you here for, let’s say, another few hours, or are you going to be a good girl?” you sniffle and nod your head, he smiles and reaches out to pull the scarf down. he makes quick work of releasing your ties, caressing the chaffed marks left on your skin. “im sorry..” you start, your voice small. you sit on the edge of the bed and rub your wrists, refusing to look up at him - you’re almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.” you hear him smooth out the bedspread behind you. “hey,” he stands in front of you now, holding your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look up at him. “it’s okay. but i need to be able to do my work if i want to keep us safe. you want to stay here with me, don’t you?” you nod, and he pulls you up to your feet. “there she is. let me finish up and then I’ll be in bed soon.” he kisses your forehead and you climb in bed sksjjdndbb

- aftercare is blessed! he’s sweet when he should be - he’ll spread your legs, lift them, do whatever to clean you up with a wet towel. it’s very intricate, he doesn’t miss a spot. hell come with a glass of water, which he holds to your lips for you to sip because he made your body JELLY and you really can’t move. he’ll get in bed and pull you onto his lap so you’re laying on him, legs hiked up on both sides of him. your arms are around his neck, and his hands rest comfortably on your torso. “you took your punishment so well. you’re such a good girl for me.” he’d whisper into your hair and then night night

- he is a serious dom, but there is a mommy kink in there somewhere. he just wants to be held and seen, things he never felt with his real mom. so sometimes you’ll take the reigns..he’s never been harder than when you call him your good boy 😩 and when you hold him?? stroke his hair, he is sat. the “maternal figure” tactic didn’t work on him when Lady Raven tried it, but it would work for you

- loves to hit it from behind. he likes being able to grip your waist so hard it bruises, wrap his hand around your neck to steady himself, grab a fistful of your hair to make you look back at him.

[merrybloomwrites]

HS4 at Midnight?

Summary: Harry's performance with Stevie Nicks has his fans wondering if HS4 will be announced soon. Little do they know that you and Harry have other exciting news to share.

Word Count: 770

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

When Harry steps out wearing his suit, you get hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s been nearly a year since he’s last been on stage, and what a year it’s been. So much has happened in your lives, and miraculously, Harry’s fans still haven’t figured it out. 

They’ll know soon, though. But the secret is safe for a little bit longer.

“Can you help with the pin?” He asks, and you quickly straighten the bird he’s wearing in honor of Christine. 

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Excited. And nervous. I always love singing with Stevie. But it’s been so long, and I just know my fans are gonna go crazy. It’s been so calm lately,” he answers.

“I know, I love our little bubble too. But I really think it’s the time to pop it, don’t you agree?”

“You’re right, as always,” he says and presses a kiss to your lips. 

After another few minutes you leave Harry’s side so he can head backstage. You join Gemma and the rest of Harry’s friends who are there to watch. 

When he comes onstage you stick close to his sister. You’ve become so close, especially lately, and you’re truly both a bit emotional watching Harry sing with one of his idols. Neither of you do a great job holding in the tears of overwhelming pride seeing him up on that stage.

After the show is over you and Harry head back home, choosing to ignore social media for the moment. But you can’t help checking the next day, and one thing in particular catches your eye.

“They’ve all got a theory,” you say to him, providing no context.

“Who?”

“Your fans. They seem to have noticed a pattern.”

“Ah, and what would that be?”

“That you always do a performance like this and then announce a new album right after. So far I’ve seen about twenty people saying ‘HS4 at midnight?’”

Harry laughs and replies, “Oh they have no idea what’s about to go down.”

You’re about to respond when a sound distracts you, pulling you away from the conversation. 

A few more days pass and you walk into the living room to see Harry on his phone, giggling and typing.

“What are you doing?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just turns his phone to you so you can see what he’s up to. He’s on instagram, making a story to post to his main account. It’s just a black screen with the eyes emoji and the word “tomorrow”.

“Oh you are so mean,” you say, laughing right along with him. 

“It’s fun to tease them, just a little bit. And see all their theories. I wonder if anyone will guess right.”

“A couple might. I mean, most will guess new album but there will definitely be some who think differently.”

“We’ll know soon,” he says as he officially posts his story. The views come a second later, and within minutes people are posting all over the internet, excited to finally hear from Harry after a year away.

The two of you spend time that evening crafting the announcement post, choosing just the right pictures and caption. You hope that people won’t be disappointed, but try not to think about the potential negative responses. Rather, you and Harry focus on the excitement you know will come.

The next morning, after a quiet family breakfast, Harry looks over the post one last time before sharing it with the world. 

Under a series of photos of your beautiful family, all posed just right to hide your newborn daughter's face, is the caption “Baby Styles. Out now. This past year has been the most exciting time in my life. Becoming a father has been a truly wonderful experience. To my wife, thank you, thank you, thank you, for this gift. I am so impressed by you, so proud of the mum that you are, and I cannot wait for us to watch this little girl grow up together.”

For the rest of the day, you and Harry keep an eye on the comments while taking care of your two month old. As expected, some people are disappointed by the lack of new music, but the response is overwhelmingly positive. Everyone is excited that Harry is officially a girl dad, and the word ‘congratulations’ is written so many times it starts to look fake. 

That evening, you settle in for your favorite concert of all time. This one happens every night, and it’s just for you and your little one. As Harry croons to your daughter, you grow impossibly more fond of this man.

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: November 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post to let them know that they’re appreciated 💜 And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | 💜 (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Friend or Fuck by @joonsmagicshop [8K] // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 A drunken night leads to a good morning.

🗨️ I really liked this 🥺 Namjoon was just so sweet, caring and gentle with OC. Really loved it 👏🏾 but why, oh why did Jungkook have to cockblock them 😂 I wanted the smut alright! The build up was so good, I was slightly frustrated with the ending 🙈 yes I’m a slut for smut okay 🙈 I’m hoping for a part two ✌🏾🙏🏾💜

⭐Emotions of the Soul 💯by @oddinary4bts [36.6K] // knj x f.reader // idol!au, childhood/teenage lovers to s2l2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 When Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

🗨️ This is another masterpiece from Ella! She is incredible at writing idol!au’s that just feels so goddamn natural and real 👏 The way Namjoon is written is just perfection and OC with her struggles, and they are goddamn human, yes – and that’s one of the beautiful parts in it!!! 😭I also reminded me of my own teenage breakup (gosh I was stupid back then, but not because of the breakup lol 😂). Anyway, please go and read it! As with everything Ella write, this is another to add to my favorites 💜

Seokjin

Nothing this month 😞

Yoongi

⭐Workaholic 💯by @hobiwonder [10K] // myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. 

🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨

⭐Little bit of your Heart by @yoongiofmine [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader, jjk x f.reader // exes!au, fwb!au // 🥵

📝 You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 

🗨️ Yes here we go a new series from Ella! ✨ Yoongi already seems so done with Jungkook and they have barely spoken 😂 looking forward to how that develops 🤭

⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides 💯by @violetsiren90 // myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."

🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.

Hoseok

⭐Flight 18 💯by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul.  You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat.  Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble 💯by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] 💯by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally. 

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Flowers & Sex by @7deadlysinsfics [4.5K] // pjm x f.reader // fwb, f2l au, pwp // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 You’re in need of a warm body and a good fuck. who better than your friend park jimin?

🗨️ Just really cute 🥺 Hoseok (readers ex in this) is a douche though, like why did she have to go back to him ugh 🥴 but I like how the story developed and reader realized her feelings after she took her ex back. Loved Jimin and how he gave her flowers 💐 he was so fucking cute 🥺🌸

⭐Heaven with You by @acc3ssdenied [4.7K] // pjm x f.reader // friends to ??? // 🥵

📝 All good things happen after 2 am - at least, that was what you believed. Whoever thought it was a good idea for a group of twelve young adults to play drunk truth or dare obviously agreed with you.

🗨️ Oh this was some filthy smut 🥵 And that kiss with Taehyung was downright slutty – a really good pwp 🥵

⭐Have some Respect by @chim-chimmie [4.2K] // pjm x f.reader // school/college!au, teacher!jimin // 🥵

📝 Your teacher Park Jimin has had enough of you disrespecting him, so he taught you a little lesson.

🗨️ Okay, okay, I know the teacher x student dynamic is a touchy subject, and not always well executed, but hear me out, alright. This was so freaking sinful, like my soul needs to take a shower now??? 🥵

⭐Rush by @bangtanfanfiction [4K] // pjm x f.reader // idol!jimin // 🥵🥰

📝 After not seeing your boyfriend for several weeks, his latest performance definitely made something in you snap. And at a award show of all things.

🗨️ A good pwp with smut that is 🔥

⭐How Long? by @jiminniethemarshmallow [4K] // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 No summary!

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it’s still so fucking hot and filthy 🥵

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this a few years back and I’ve actually read it multiple times, it’s just so incredible 👏🏾 the smut is freaking hot, and Jimin is just 🤯 well, he’s being a sweet fluffball, but then a smexy God 🥵 like wtf! The duality is insane! One of my favorites and I’m looking forward to rereading part two ✨💜

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

Taehyung

Nothing this month 😞

Jungkook

⭐Love à Trois [series; ongoing] by @letjungcoook7 [13.1K] // jjk x f.reader x pjm // slice of life, f2l+s2l, roommates!au, college!au, love triangle // 🥵🌩️

📝 You and Jimin secretly have feelings for each other, you both realize your dream of studying at the same college and sharing an apartment, but when financial issues start to arise, you have to seek a third roommate. and guess who fate sends your way? Jungkook, the same guy who took your virginity back in high school.

🗨️ This is really good! There’s two chapters up so far and they are really good! It’s so interesting to see the love triangle unfold. Really enjoyed this 🌸 It’s just getting better and better ✨ I really loved the backstory of how both Jimin and OC realized they had feelings for each other 🥺 so good and really looking forward to the next chapter 😍

⭐Sweet Obsession by @letjungcoook7 [2.5K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship, plussize!reader // 🥵🥰

📝 When a coworker starts to show interest in you, your boyfriend becomes jealous.

🗨️ Whaaaaaaaat 🥹This was so incredibly sweet and tender! As a plus-sized curvy girl, this was such a good and lovely read 💖 Another banger from Lua💜

⭐The Wedding Planners 💯by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding. 

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Fragment of the Past (1)(2)(3) [series; completed] 💯by @ctrlsht [28.1K] // jjk x f.reader // patient!jk x psychiatrist!reader // 🌩️😈👻🥵

📝 You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

🗨️ Another first for me, with the thriller vibes and damn it delivers on that! It’s really, really good 👏 Pacing is really good and how we see more and more of Jungkook’s disturbing traits is just brilliant ✨If you want my full review of it, you can find it here (it does contain spoilers though!). And I really think you shouldn’t spoil it! Just go read it if you’re into the darker stuff, because my heart was racing so damn fast! This is the best thriller yandere au I’ve read to date 💜

⭐Lost on You by @letjungcoook7 [2.1K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 You're just so obsessed with your boyfriend. you would do anything for him.

🗨️ Ehm excuse me Lua, mirror sex???? 🥵 Fucking hell that was a hot one, like I almost feel like I need to take a shower 😂 another banger from you! And the dirty talking too, aish 🥵 💖

OMG November has truly been an exceptional month! There was my 30th birthday of course, and then I received so my love for my series ‘friendcation’ that I was crying with all the beautiful words and reviews I got 😭 I am so thankful for every one of you, whether you interact with my fic recs or my own – thank you! 💜

Borahae 💜

[evvyyypeters-fics]

“She’s got a way. She got away”

Misty Day x f!reader

Warnings! Angst, maybe cringe writing idk, short, not proofread rlly, hopefully not ooc

Been obsessed w/ Subway by Chappell Roan (needs to be released ASAP PLS CHAPPELL PLS) so I decided to write Misty angst. This is probably gonna flop like my other angst but it’s ok

Misty Day fic also requested by @urlittlelisb0ngirl sorry

Required listening (I’m not responsible for your tears)

Lily of the Valley. Was that it? Or maybe it was Jasmine. That scent that always lingered on you.

I think I smelled it again, on a girl with your hair that walked past me today.

It’s like a sign, because I swear I could smell you on her. A reminder that there will be a fragment of you in my mind. The memories of us on the pier are fading, just like the ones of us eating ice cream on the ferris wheel–the first time you had ever been to an amusement park. It was also our first date. Do you still remember it?

I don’t.

The look on your face is blurred. Were you smiling? Did you even look at me? Did you drip ice cream on your blouse? Were we laughing? What time of day was it?

It’s all a blur to me now. I guess that’s a blessing and a curse, because as the memories fade, so does the pain. But as the pain fades, so do the feelings I had for you. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to let go, but at this rate it’s inevitable. Are you ready to move on? Is that what you really wanted?

I think about you a lot, and I can keep holding onto the memories as long as I want, but I still watch them as they slip past my fingers. I wonder the most–if you still think about me? Do you regret it? Have you found someone else? Where was it that you ran away to again? Saskatchewan? You really were always a country girl at heart, weren’t you? If only I knew your new address, maybe I’d show up on your doorstep with a charming bouquet of flowers, maybe a boombox over my head and playing your favorite Stevie Nicks song.

I still have your jar of swamp mud you gifted me for my birthday, you told me it didn’t mean anything, that it was “just good wishes”. But I know how much it really means to you, and I can still remember the faint feeling of a burning in my chest from the way you gazed at me, and the way your fingers whispered over mine as you placed the jar between them.

If you asked me if this is what I wanted too, I don’t think I’d have an answer. I’d say “It’s complicated” and either way, it’d end the same as it always does. Sometimes I think I see you, when I’m in large crowds. Usually by the subway. I’ll see a blurry image of your face, maybe a familiar feeling of a smile on someone else, or the sound of your voice walking by. But of course, it never is. It almost drives me mad how your shadow follows me, even in the dark of the night. As if the stars are the twinkle of your eyes. I can’t escape your gaze, even when I can’t remember it.

The warmth and radiance of your presence haunts me. There was something about the way you carried yourself everyday, a true angel. I guess that’s why you were so unreachable. You were made from heaven, and I was born in hell.

On that fateful day, when the it came down to the last page in our story, you said to me:

“I don’t think this is where I’m meant to be. I’m not ready. I’m not ready for whatever this is.”

Well, I don’t think this is where I’m meant to be either. I’m not ready to give up on what we had yet, and it’s the worst torture to experience. At least I still remember the feeling that was loving you. But as the image of you in the corner of my eye becomes dark and darker, I’m starting to think this was how it was always meant to be.

Misty Day, you truly have a way. If only you didn’t get away.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @americanwh0rerstory @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3 @bellalove69420 @songbird-garden

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — four

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary — kitty is yet again dragged to a social gathering she would rather not attend. the bait this time? weed!

paring — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!(journalist)!reader

disclaimer — who is expecting me to own peter parker by now?? bc i don’t

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty,’ weed, slightly inexperienced reader (experienced peter, no smut yet im sorry), possible ooc

Days like these were the ones Kitty craved: hazy, chilly spring weather that resembled fall, except that dying leaves were replaced by cherry-red buds, and flowers bloomed through blades of grass. It was one of those days with no responsibilities to fill her precious hours—the ones that were spent scrolling through Pinterest and reading. She was stretched haphazardly along her bed, still dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in the armpits. The blinds were still closed, so the sudden beam of light next to her startled her.

“You love interrupting my dark-dwelling time,” she hissed as MJ entered the room. Sticking out her tongue, MJ closed the door behind her and sealed off the obnoxious light, much to Kitty’s relief.

“I’m sorry, my sun-hating princess,” MJ spoke dramatically as she rummaged through her bag, “But, I come bearing gifts.”

At this, Kitty perked up, swiping out of Project Makeover and sitting up to devote her full attention to her roomate. From her bag, MJ produced two plastic-wrapped chocolate-chip cookies and tossed them to bed. The girl pounced on them, immediately tearing into the plastic on one of the packs.

“I forgive you,” she said before biting into the treat.

“Thank God,” MJ replied in dramatic relief. Ease settled over the room as MJ removed her jacket and went about unpacking her things. Kitty, now finished with her first cookie, tossed the used plastic to the trash can across the room (and missed horribly). 

“What’ve you been up to this lovely Friday?” She asked her freckled friend, who was currently changing out of her cable knit sweater. 

“Oh, you know, class,” MJ responded as she slid a Stevie Nicks shirt over her head, “Some people still have class on Fridays.”

“That must be heartbreaking,” Kitty hummed sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” MJ’s movements were smooth as she went through her bag, “I had lunch with Harry after class.”

“Was the dining hall romantic?” Kitty questioned with a smile.

“Totally,” MJ responded with a laugh, “The black-bean burgers are basically aphrodisiacs. Anyways, he invited us out to Hot Rock around eight, so I was thinking we could get dinner–”

“No, thanks,” Kitty intercepted, bringing her legs up closer to her torso and flattening her lips to a line, “I’m not leaving the dorm today.”

“If you had it your way, you’d do that every day,” MJ groaned.

“And?’ Kitty quirked a brow, causing another grumble to leave her counterpart.

“Do you realize how much I say ‘no’ to stuff?” She continued, “‘Kitty, wanna go to a hockey game?’ No. ‘Kitty, wanna go to a frat party?’ No. Our entire relationship exists on the basis of you wanting to do stuff and me trying to refuse.”

“But you still went,” MJ raised her brows hopefully, “To both things. And it’s not like it’s just going to be Harry, he said some other people would be there.”

“Oh, great, other people, you know how much I love social gatherings where I don’t know anyone.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You know Peter,” MJ suggested. Kitty hadn’t seen Peter in a while. ‘A while,’ in her case, was a week. She’d gotten some semi-regular texts from him (cat memes and open invites to hang out) but hadn’t seen him since the frat party.

“Is it the best use of their time to be at Hot Rock when the semi-finals are two days away?” Kitty asked.

“No, probably not, but,” MJ’s smile, which had been dimming, came back with full vibrance, “But we can reap the benefits of their deviant behavior.”

“Are the benefits better than chocolate chip cookies?” She hummed.

“Pre-rolls and a bong,” MJ wiggled her fingers in a tamer version of jazz hands. Kitty seemed to deflate with a loud sigh.

“I hate that you make me do things.”

Hot Rock existed on the older, suburban side of campus. Right behind one of the major dining halls was a small, hidden space that hit the blind spot of the security cameras in the area. It wasn’t a rock so much as an artificial slab of stone with a metal pipe attached that spewed hot steam. It was connected to the heating system in the dining hall, but also served as a popular spot for stoners. A few of these man-made smoke spots were scattered around campus, but this one was the most popular, mainly because this rock was always much hotter than the others.

Kitty’s breath appeared in small puffs in the night air and she and MJ walked around the corner of the dining hall. It was spring, and the weather was getting warmer, but there was still a bit of frost. As they shuffled down a small slope, the rock revealed itself, decorated with about four people, one of them being Harry.

“MJ!” He nearly fell over himself scrambling towards the pair. He pressed a small kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. MJ giggled, choosing to ignore Kitty’s gagging face.

“Kitty-cat!” Harry directed his grinning face to her, “I’m so glad MJ got you out of your tree.”

“I almost wish you’d just call me ‘bitch’ instead of that,” she replied. Harry, not losing any vigor, laughed.

“I know what you need.” He wagged his brows as he reached into the breast pocket of his flannel. He produced a mini pre-rolled joint with a proud grin, “Kitty needs her catnip.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” she said, and he simply chuckled. His eyes moved from hers, and somehow his impossibly bright smile widened. Kitty turned and was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

“I’m a big fan of catnip, too,” Peter grinned, sliding down to meet the rest of the group.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry let go of MJ for a moment to give Peter a half-hug. Peter’s eyes, however, never let go of Kitty. He held her gaze with ease.

“Can we sit? My ass is cold,” MJ grumbled lightly as Harry took his post next to her.

“Of course, of course,” was Harry’s hurried reply. The four found spots on the rock, Harry returning to his original spot and taking MJ with him. Kitty settled in a small nook where the slab met a natural rock formation, and, as if she was a magnetic pole, Peter sat next to her. A few awkward introductions were shared with the others at the rock, though, it was clear they were all at least a few hits into Harry’s pre-rolls. 

“So,” Peter’s voice cracked through the silence, “We keep finding each other, don’t we?”

“You keep finding me,” Kitty corrected.

“Same difference,” he shrugged. Wordlessly, he slipped his backpack from his shoulder and set it down in front of him. He worked in surprising order as he removed the items: a grinder, a small, rolled-up plastic bag, a green bong that had seen better days.

“Are student athletes supposed to be smoking?” She asked. For once, his gaze wasn’t focused on her, but on the contents before him.

“Helps with nerves,” he said, grabbing the baggy, “It’s medical, y’know.”

“Hm, I bet,” she replied. He worked with diligence: his long, slender fingers plucked a chunk of bud from the bag and trapped it in the grinder. The sleeves of his black long sleeve were rolled up, revealing his wrist that tensed lightly when he ground the bud. She’d never quite noticed how strong his hands looked—veiny and taught, likely from the hours upon hours of hockey practice. Then came the realization that she was staring, which pulled her attention away from him and to the others on the rock. Though there weren’t many people, pockets of conversation were created: MJ and Harry, who were cuddled up and passing a joint, two other members of the hockey team and a girl with shaggy blonde hair, and, of course, her and Peter. 

“Alright,” Peter hummed in satisfaction as he packed the bowl. He grabbed a red lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and finally looked at Kitty. He held the bong out for her with one of those easy, boyish smiles, “Wanna do the honors, Y/n?”

Peter seemed to be good at evoking emotions from her. Annoyance, frustration, confusion, and now, prickly embarrassment. She licked her lips, looking from the bong and back to him.

“Um,” she let out a small cough, “I’m…not sure how to?”

She wasn’t new to smoking. There was the occasional joint she and MJ would indulge in, or maybe she would take a hit off cart at one of the parties she was dragged to. She’d just hadn’t gotten the chance to hit a bong before—a fact that didn’t bother her until she was here, staring at Peter. She hated her reply and the way she stumbled with her words. She hated that she had nothing better to say. She hated that she had released blood into the water.

“You haven’t done this before?” He grinned. Her jaw clenched at the way he said that. Kitty, in response, sucked her teeth.

“Have you never smoked before?” He cocked his head.

“No, I have, just not this,” she sighed, a slight aggravated clip to her words. Peter must’ve noticed because his gloating grin softened.

“That’s alright,” his voice was more mellow now, “That’s okay, everyone has a first time.”

This persona, the calmer one he adapted when he knew she was getting pissed off, may have pissed her off even more. If he wasn’t being an asshole, it was harder to be annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with herself.

“Okay,” she said, a cleansing breath of chilled spring air filling her lungs.

“Okay?” He repeated, “You want to try?”

Kitty glanced at MJ and Harry. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were still all over each other, giggling and whispering. She turned back to Peter and nodded.

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“Gimme,” she groaned, taking the glass bong from his hands. He let out a small, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, so,” he sat up, “I’m gonna light it, you breathe in through the mouth right here. I’ll pull the bowl for you and you keep breathing in, okay?”

Kitty nodded, her lips descending on the mouthpiece. A sudden flash of panic struck her as he flicked the lighter. Did she look stupid? Was she being stupid? Why did she care? Peter lit the bowl, and she did as he said, sucking in a deep drag. The bong bubbled to life and milky smoke flooded the tube.

“Good, good,” Peter encouraged as he pulled the bowl, “Keep sucking in—there you go, just like that.”

She’d been doing fine until he’d spoken. His words, meant as innocent encouragement, sent blood rushing to her face. Her scalp burned as her head reared back and ragged coughs escaped her. Smoke left her lips in puffs, like dust being stirred from an old book. Peter patted her back with one hand and rummaged through his bag with another.

“That happens,” he spoke, unphased by her continuous coughing. He took a metal water bottle decorated in stickers in various states of wear from his bag and unscrewed the lid.

“Here, drink,” he brought it to her lips and she immediately sucked down the water. It was cold against her burning throat. She focused on how cool it was, hoping it would also subdue the burning in her face. A few gulps later, Kitty was back to a semi-normal state. She took in deep breaths, swirling in oxygen with the cannabis in her lungs. 

“That was a big-ass hit. Good job,” Peter chuckled, “When was the last time you smoked?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? And thank you,” Kitty replied. There wasn’t a hint of snark in her words, which was highly unusual. The afterburn of her influx of new feelings was still there.

“That oughta do it,” he took the bong from her, “I mean, you can totally have more, but your tolerance is probably pretty low, and the hit you just took looked more like three.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it,” she coughed out. He eyed her, suspicious of her lack of sass, before lighting the bowl for himself.

The bong caught up with her within ten minutes. There was a low vibration in her body, one that pulsed in her fingertips and warmed her. Her vision was a bit more narrow now, like she was viewing movie through her vision. Her mind bubbled, and when her eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, she leaned back with astonished glee.

It wasn’t often that you saw stars in the sky on this side of New York. Usually, the city lights blocked out anything non-artificial. But here, a mile or so away from the more prominent lights, she was able to see the glimmer of distant stars. It was captivating, really, and she could’ve stared at them for hours. Maybe she did. People buzzed around her without her recognition. Even Peter seemed to settle into a comfortable silence next to her. 

“Do you remember that one episode of Hannah Montana where Miley moves into a new house and there’s a pizza oven? Like, one of those wood ovens you put pizza in. A pizza oven? Yeah?” She asked, glancing in Peter’s direction. He seemed to only slightly register the question before looking at her with a cocked brow.

“No,” he replied.

“Oh,” she hummed, “What about the one where—it’s the third episode, I think—the one where Oliver—no, it’s the second episode—the one where Oliver is in love with Hannah Montana, but he doesn’t know it’s Miley, so Miley and Lilly are like ‘oh, no!’” 

“No,” he repeated. His voice wasn’t harsh, though. It was soft, maybe even curious.

“It’s good,” she said, “Real good. Real good.” 

It was around then that the stars began to lull her to sleep. There was something comfortable about this moment: the heat of the rock, the stars, the weed in her system. She drifted off for a moment and was quickly awoken by a gentle shake.

“Y/n?” Peter called lightly, “Are you sleepy?”

His hand was on her arm. His hand was on her arm. Her eyes settled on that before she could even begin to process his words. His hand was lovely, truly, with its web of veins, the slender fingers that warmed her skin. She looked up to him and smiled.

“Hey!” Was her cheery reply. He laughed at this and nodded. Kitty cocooned inside herself once more as he turned away and called out to someone on the other side of the rock. She heard Harry, then MJ, then Peter again. It sounded like hearing a foreign language as the spoke.

“Would you like to sleep in your bed instead of this rock?” Peter asked. Kitty, still cocooned, sprung forward a bit.

“Yes,” she responded confidently. He couldn’t help but smile at her tone. He packed away his bag swiftly and stood, offering a hand to Kitty.

“You think I can’t stand up? Oh, I can stand up—I’m an olympic stander,” she mumbled, rejecting his hand. This side of her was something Peter had never experienced. He was used to snippy comments and sharp replies, but the inebriated, bumbling Kitty was an entirely different person. He liked it. A lot.

They began their trek back to Kitty’s dorm in silence. It was comfortable like this: quiet interrupted by the occasional off-key hum by the girl. It wasn’t a very far walk, only five minutes or so, and when they reached the front, Peter’s tight grin loosened a bit.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hand gently catching her arm. In this state, she wasn’t able to deny the electric current that was sent through her nervous system. Kitty shivered as she met his eyes.

“I know you’re not in the right headspace for this, so I’ll ask you again later, but…” he trailed off. He looked away from her, and she caught the way his throat bobbed slightly. This lasted for only a moment before he was making eye contact again, “Do you wanna come to semis?”

That wasn’t the question she expected. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Instead of responding, she stared blankly at him.

“It’s not here, it’s actually kind of far away,” he was rambling now, “Well, not super far, it’s in New Jersey. It’s sort of late notice, so I know you might not want to go, and you have your own shit to worry about, too, so—”

“This is very weird,” Kitty interrupted.

“What?” Peter stopped, looking to her with a quirked brow.

“You’re acting nervous and talking a lot. Weird,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m a little high, and you’re really hot, so there’s just a lot going on up here.” He gestured to his head. Her eyes were blank for several seconds before they sparked in recognition.

“Oh—oh.” Her expression changed rapidly, eventually landing on something akin to realization. Silence swelled between them for a moment before it was broken by one word: “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Peter repeated.

“Maybe,” she nodded in agreement. His lips tugged into a boyish smile once more.

“Okay, Y/n,” he grinned, “Maybe.”

a/n — (in the voice of that one meme) heyy….how y’all doin??? okay so im sorry that this update is months late, college has been a lot. it’s been fun tho!! like, i think im the happiest ive ever been. anyways, im sorry if this update doesn’t fit as well with the others, im trying to get back into the groove of writing, forgive me 🙏 love u guys!!

taglist

@reidslovely @awezomezauce @tarzinnia @fr3akho3 @multilovebot @collywobbl @naok-iyuu @kay-i-guess @littlexscarletxwitch @ujimoo

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift is giving fans more insight into her new album “The Tortured Poets Department,” thanks to a track-by-track experience with Amazon Music.

Fans can now listen to the album — which shattered streaming records after its release on April 19 — along with commentary from Swift breaking down the meaning of each track. To listen to “The Tortured Poets Department” with Swift’s commentary, fans can simply say to Alexa, “I’m a member of ‘The Tortured Poets Department.'”

Through the experience, Swift has revealed the inspiration behind songs including “Fortnight” with Post Malone, “Clara Bow,” “Florida!!!” with Florence + the Machine, “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?” and “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.”

“‘Fortnight’ is a song that exhibits a lot of the common themes that run throughout this album. One of which being fatalism — longing, pining away, lost dreams,” Swift said of the album’s opening song. “I think that it’s a very fatalistic album in that there are lots of very dramatic lines about life or death. ‘I love you, it’s ruining my life.’ These are very hyperbolic, dramatic things to say. It’s that kind of album.”

Of “Clara Bow,” named after the silent film actress, Swift said the track is “a commentary on what I’ve seen in the industry that I’ve been in over time.”

“I used to sit in record labels trying to get a record deal when I was a little kid. And they’d say, ‘you know, you remind us of’ and then they’d name an artist, and then they’d kind of say something disparaging about her, ‘but you’re this, you’re so much better in this way or that way.’ And that’s how we teach women to see themselves, as like you could be the new replacement for this woman who’s done something great before you,” she said. “I picked women who have done great things in the past and have been these architypes of greatness in the entertainment industry. Clara Bow was the first ‘it girl.’ Stevie Nicks is an icon and an incredible example for anyone who wants to write songs and make music.”

“Florida!!!” featuring Florence + the Machine is one of the rare songs on the album that doesn’t see Swift directly speaking of a former lover. Swift said the inspiration for this track actually came from “always watching ‘Dateline.'”

“People have these crimes that they commit; where do they immediately skip town and go to? They go to Florida,” the singer added. “They try to reinvent themselves, have a new identity, blend in. I think when you go through a heartbreak, there’s a part of you that thinks, ‘I want a new name. I want a new life. I don’t want anyone to know where I’ve been or know me at all.’ And so that was the jumping off point. Where would you go to reinvent yourself and blend in? Florida!”

As for “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me,” Swift revealed that she wrote the tune “alone, sitting at the piano in one of those moments when I felt bitter about just all the things we do to our artists as a society and as a culture.”

“There’s a lot about this particular concept on ‘The Tortured Poets Department,'” she added. “What do we do to our writers, and our artists, and our creatives? We put them through hell. We watch what they create, then we judge it. We love to watch artists in pain, often to the point where I think sometimes as a society we provoke that pain and we just watch what happens.”

Lastly, Swift broke down the metaphor within “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.”

The song is about “being somebody’s favorite toy until they break you and then don’t want to play with you anymore,” she said. “Which is how a lot of us are in relationships where we are so valued by a person in the beginning, and then all of the sudden, they break us or they devalue us in their mind. We’re still clinging on to ‘No no, no. You should’ve seen them the first time they saw me. They’ll come back to that. They’ll get back to that.’”

[parkerslatte]

Songbird

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: sexual assault, drugs, alcohol, sexual content.

Summary: Up and coming singer, Y/N L/N is mostly known across the Sunset Strip for her deep and sultry voice. Despite this, she isn't signed to any label. It was her one dream to perform for people all over the world. Stuck working at a record store and living with two girls who don't even know her name, Y/N continues to perform gigs in McNasties, hoping to catch the attention of a producer.

While performing at McNasties, Y/N meets up and coming band, The Dunne Brothers. Just from listening to a few of their songs alone, Y/N knew they would be big in the future. How big she definitely underestimated.

Moving in with the band only a week after meeting them, she binds with them all and they all become fast friends - all bonding over the experience of trying to become successful.

Y/N was there for the tours, the performances and the arguments and now she's telling her part in the story.

Started: 3rd April 2023

Finished: 15th May 2023

Total Word Count: 60,747

Masterlist

Taglist

•••

Contents:

Track One; Oh No!

Track Two; Here We Go Again

Track Three; Exactly What I Want

Track Four; Dance Past Midnight

Track Five; Days Go By

Track Six; Sleeping With a Friend

Track Seven; Killer Queen

Track Eight; This is Trouble

Track Nine; Baby Said

Track Ten; Bubblegum Bitch

Track Eleven; Don’t Act Like You Don’t Know

Track Twelve; Maneater

Track Thirteen; Kill You With A Wink Of Her Eye

Track Fourteen; Ballroom Blitz

Track Fifteen; Sip the Gossip

Track Sixteen; I Want Some More

Track Seventeen; Out of my Depth

Track Eighteen; I Don’t Know Where I Belong

Track Nineteen; Nobody Loves a Gloomy Face

Track Twenty; Summertime Sadness

Track Twenty-One; Running Away From This Conversation

Track Twenty-Two; The Things You Love You Lose

Track Twenty-Three; Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

Track Twenty-Four; Look At Us Now

•••

SOUNDTRACK

I. fleetwood mac; SONGBIRD

II. marina; OH NO!

III. nelly furtado; MANEATER

IV. neon trees; ANIMALS

V. stevie nicks; EDGE OF SEVENTEEN

VI. toby sebastian, florence pugh; MIDNIGHT

VII. queen; KILLER QUEEN

VIII. sweet; BALLROOM BLITZ

IX. arctic monkeys; I WANNA BE YOURS

X. neon trees; SLEEPING WITH A FRIEND

XI. the orion experience; THE QUEEN OF WHITE LIES

XII. marina; BUBBLEGUM BITCH

XIII. the lumineers; HO HEY

XIV. måneskin; BABY SAID

XV. lana del rey; SUMMERTIME SADNESS

XVI. måneskin, tom morello; GOSSIP

XVII. florence + the machine; YOU'VE GOT THE LOVE

XVIII. daisy jones and the six; LOOK AT US NOW (HONEYCOMB)

•••

Authors note:

- This is an x reader version I am publishing. The original name of the character is Felicity Fletcher (so if the name is accidentally left in there that is the reason why)

- This fic will mainly follow the show with some things taken from the book.

- Finally I hope you will all enjoy this story. If anyone would like anymore information feel free to send an ask or message me :)

[fkinkindagauche]

A Ghost In Giant Sneakers, Laughing, Stars Around His Head

I finally got around to writing this one for Day 6 of @steddie-spooktober "haunted". Title is from "Joy" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1,641 | CW: None | Tags: Ghost Eddie Munson, Hand Jobs

It had been a long, boring day at Family Video, and Steve had once again failed to find a date to help him unwind. There had been options, sure, but none of them had piqued his interest. It had been a serious problem lately, and Robin told him he’d gotten way too picky. But the girls of Hawkins just didn’t seem to be doing it for him anymore.

That's how he found himself on a Friday night, laying on his bed in just his boxers, in his parents’ house that they hardly ever returned to, completely alone. He trailed a hand down his stomach, stroking lightly through the hair beneath his belly button. He could at least still help himself unwind.

He stuck a hand beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers, taking his half-hard cock in hand and giving it a few experimental strokes. He felt himself quickly growing hard, fully erect in no time. His interest in the girls of Hawkins may have waned, but his horniness definitely hadn’t.

He let out a little moan as he felt precum start to bead at the tip of his cock, swiping it up with his fingers and using it to slick his strokes. He started to stroke faster, twisting a little at the tip the way he liked. As pleasure started to build in his lower belly, he found himself thinking about broad shoulders, a skinny waist, curly brown hair, dimples.

He stopped his strokes, shaking his head vigorously. What the fuck. Boobies, Steve, he told himself. Think about boobies.

He resumed his stroking, trying to picture boobs. It worked, mostly, and he found himself inching closer to orgasm, almost there, when he was interrupted by a voice.

“Watcha up to, big boy?”

Steve screamed, hand coming out of his boxers as he sat up to see that Eddie’s ghost had materialized in his bedroom. He was wearing the same clothes he'd died in, complete with blood stains, though he was monochrome now, looking like he'd walked straight out of a black and white movie.

“What the fuck, Eddie! What did we say about privacy?” Steve yelled, pulling a blanket up above his waist to hide his erection.

“Well, I can’t exactly knock, Stevie. I’m incorporeal,” Eddie said, giving Steve a mischievous smile.

Steve glared at him. “I don’t even understand why you’re haunting my house. You didn’t die here; you’d never even been here before you died. We barely even knew each other until you started haunting me! Can’t you go haunt Henderson?”

Eddie shrugged. “I go to his place sometimes. But I like it better here. Living in a luxury I never had while I was alive.”

“You’re incorporeal!” Steve threw back at him. “You can’t even enjoy the luxury.”

“That’s just hurtful. And anti-ghost,” Eddie said, pouting.

Steve sighed and dropped his face in his hands. His erection was long gone, and he wouldn’t be able to get back in the mood knowing Eddie was lurking around. He moved to get out of his bed, but before he could Eddie spoke again.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, smirking. “You were making such lovely noises.”

“You were listening to me?” Steve asked, scandalized.

“I mean, you’re pretty loud. Kind of hard not to listen,” Eddie said, making Steve blush. “Who were you thinking about, Stevie?”

“Boobs,” Steve blurted, trying to keep his mind far away from who he’d been thinking about before the boobs.

“Just, like, generic disembodied boobs?” Eddie asked, skeptical.

“Yeah. You know. Good ones.”

Eddie shrugged. “Can’t say boobs ever really did it for me, but whatever floats your boat I guess.’

Steve looked up at Eddie sharply. “What do you mean, ‘boobs never really did it for you’?”

“I’m more of a dick man,” Eddie said.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “You mean you’re gay?”

Eddie looked a little skittish, eyes darting from side to side, then he shrugged again. “Yeah. I guess there’s no real reason to stay in the closet anymore. What’s the worst someone could do if they found out? Kill me?” He gave Steve a lopsided grin.

Steve was side-lined by Eddie’s honesty, which was the only reason he could think of to explain what he said next. “I’ve been wondering lately if I’m actually a boobs and dick man.”

It was Eddie’s turn to raise his eyebrows this time. “Really? Steve Harrington, ladies’ man? A bisexual?”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Steve muttered, blushing again.

“It means you like both – boys and girls,” Eddie explained, floating over to perch on the bed beside Steve.

“Oh, then, yeah. Probably,” he admitted.

“Do you think about boys sometimes while you’re touching yourself?” Eddie asked, leaning closer to Steve. It was always weird to be close to Eddie as a ghost. He’d been such a tactile person, so it felt wrong to have him right there and unable to touch.

“Y-yes,” Steve admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“What kinds of boys?” Eddie asked.

Steve shrugged. “I dunno. Skinny ones?”

Eddie smirked. “What do the boys do to you?”

Steve panicked. “I haven’t really gotten that far. I just, sort of, think about their bodies, what it would feel like to touch them. To be touched by them.”

“Do you think they’d touch you differently than a girl?” Eddie asked, voice sultry. Steve could feel his erection coming back, starting to tent the thin blanket he’d pulled over himself. Eddie’s eyes glanced down, then back up to Steve’s face as he smirked.

“Here’s how I’d touch you, if I could. First, I’d run my hands up and down your sides, like this.” He reached out and moved his hands over Steve’s sides. It looked like he was touching Steve, but all Steve felt was a vague chill. “You should do it, with your hands,” Eddie encouraged. “See how it feels.”

Steve let go of the blanket he was desperately clutching and moved his hands to his sides, putting them exactly where Eddie’s were. He could see a vague blurry outline of Eddie's hands overlaying his own, long, nimble fingers with too many rings. Steve's own hands were warm and familiar, but when paired with the image of Eddie's hands, they sent a less familiar thrill through his body.

“I'd probably kiss you next,” Eddie said, leaning his face forward toward Steve's, stopping just short of his lips. “Unfortunately that's a little harder to simulate.” Eddie's eyes looked sad, but one side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. It was jarring to have Eddie talking against his lips, and not feel even a brief puff of air.

One of Eddie's hands started to move, Steve catching sight of it out of the corner of his eye, and he moved his own hand to track Eddie's progress, down, down, trailing through the hair beneath his belly button. He paused at the waistband of Steve's boxers. 

“You're gonna have to take the next step here if you want to keep going,” Eddie said, voice deeper and less teasing. “But what I would do, if I could, is slide your boxers down, so I could see you.” 

Steve took a shaky breath, bolstering his courage, then grabbed his boxers and pulled them down, freeing his now fully hard cock. Eddie's eyes widened as he took him in. “The girls weren't lying about this aspect of the Harrington charm,” Eddie said.

Steve paused, hands held in the air, as he waited for Eddie's next direction. Eddie licked his lips and looked back up at Steve's face. 

“I would grab hold of you, like this,” Eddie said, reaching a hand out to encircle the base of Steve's cock. Steve put his hand into Eddie's, feeling the strange chill, and took hold of himself. “Then I would start to stroke,” Eddie said, hand moving up toward the head of Steve’s cock, palm ghosting over the buildup of precum. Steve's hand followed, collecting the moisture, continuing back down again as Eddie’s hand did as well.

“Do you like it fast or slow, Stevie?” Eddie asked, eyes smoldering. 

“S-slow, at first,” Steve managed to force out. Eddie nodded, starting up a slow stroking that Steve followed with his own hand. 

“I have calluses on my hands and fingers, from playing the guitar, but you'll just have to imagine those, with your pampered rich boy hands,” Eddie whispered near Steve's ear. Steve snorted, but found himself wanting to feel those calluses. He tried to imagine them, the roughness against the soft skin of his cock.

Steve's breaths started to come more heavily, pleasure building in his core. “Faster, now,” Eddie whispered, increasing the pace. “Tighter. I'd squeeze you so tight it almost hurts.” Steve moaned, and squeezed his hand tight enough to be just on the pleasurable side of pain. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve said, feeling an orgasm building. 

“Now I'd use my free hand to play with your perfect nipples, pinching and rolling them between my fingers,” Eddie said, moving his hand up. Steve groaned, picking up his pace. “Do it. Touch them for me,” Eddie commanded. Steve complied, pinching his nipples with his free hand until they were red and hard. 

“Eddie,” Steve said. “‘M gonna come.”

“Yeah, baby, wanna see it. Come for me,” Eddie said, and it sent Steve over the edge, coming all over his hand and stomach, harder than he'd come in ages. He shook through his orgasm, continuing to follow Eddie's hand with his own as Eddie simulated stroking him through his orgasm, wringing out every last drop.

Steve collapsed back onto the bed when Eddie's hand finally retreated. “That was fucking amazing,” Steve said.

“Yeah? Enough to finally make you stop bitching about me showing up unannounced?” Eddie asked, smiling.

“If you do that every time? Definitely.”

[lofitojii]

To Be Loved: Part 1

Summary: Your heart never knew it was capable of intense feelings for someone else. You thought that maybe life would've been easier if you never met him that night, if you had just ignored him in that alley. That thought crossed your mind constantly, consuming every good thing that had happened up to this point. This was never meant to be easy, and deep within, you knew involving yourself in his life was going to be complicated.

word count: 4.1k

WARNING: THIS SERIES INCLUDES 18+ CONTENT!

𓆩♡𓆪•.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.•𓆩♡𓆪

When I was younger, I had the constant reminder that love was hard to find with those who were in and out of it around me. Love was harsh, unforgiving, mentally exhausting to endure. I remember seeing my poor mother sobbing on the back porch, deep inhales from her Newport cigarette being heard through the cracked windows of our kitchen, the smell lightly seeping through the screen. I didn’t hate that smell.

She never really talked about who broke her heart but more ask “Why me?” or “What did I do now?” I remember some nights she would come home late, sending home the sweet teenage neighbour or on some nights, our aunt who I remember was a very strong figure in my childhood. The deep sigh Auntie would make when she would embrace my mother in her arms, small hushes trying to mask the sound of the silent sobs. “You can’t let these men keep treating you like this.” Those words lingered heavily throughout those nights. 

Looking back on these specific moments, my heart aches for the single mother, sitting outside alone in the dark. She preferred it that way though, and I don’t really blame her. But one thing about my mother was that she never gave up on what she thought love meant to her. The next morning, Stevie Nicks would be blasting in the kitchen, doors wide open as she smoked inside our house, waving it around as if the smoke were to cleanse the unwanted thoughts we knew she had about what happened. It was just me and my older brother through most of our childhood. Mom never really committed after our father left, not until we were both teenagers, old enough to finally grasp onto something of what she was going through. 

His name was Aiko, tall, handsome, and an artist in our community. She met him one night at the bar she used to work at on weekends when she was trying to save up for my brother to get into college. I remember him being kind, soft spoken. He treated my mother to many things, including fine dining, extravagant adventures around Asia, lavish hotels and exhibits. He was good to my mother and we also loved him, so dearly. They were perfect right up until the very end when he shielded both us and our mother from that night. If only the events had turned out differently. If only she had survived, if only they both had been able to survive.

“Stay here and do not leave by any means. Do you promise me Y/N?” His eyes filled with tears, sweat mixing with crimson liquid as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. His palm caressed my cheek, so gently, so lovingly. “I will help you but you have to promise me you’ll stay here until I do. Please…” He pleaded, his voice heavily concerned. I nodded, tears flowing, blurring my vision. He pushed me further into the dark crevice of the basement, whispering ‘I love you’ as he closed off my vision with one of his paintings. 

The night dragged on, loud bangs and thuds coming from right above me. I knew what was happening but I didn’t want to believe it. I sat and prayed to the God I had never spoken to before in hopes he would hear my calling for him in this desperate time of need. Eventually, it fell silent. I could hear the rain tapping gently against the roof, my mind wavering between sitting here and waiting or seeking help myself. 

But I promised. I told him I wouldn’t move. So I didn’t. 

That was 10 years ago, I’m 25 now, living on my own, a couple blocks away from my older brother. He visits me often, brings me dinner, studies in my kitchen until early hours of the morning, sometimes being found on my living room couch. I don’t mind, I find comfort in having my brother around. But for us to have our own independence after relying so much on each other for so many years, we had agreed to keep it this way. 

“Y/N?” a small knock came from the other side, his gentle voice seeping through the crack in my bedroom door. I closed my journal, placing it down on my side table. “Are you hungry? I was hungry and made and omlette and also kinda sorta made you one too.” I smiled as he walked in, placing the plate down in front of me before hopping into the empty spot next to my side. 

“Even if I wasn’t hungry you wouldn’t care.” He just smiled and laid his head down on the pillow behind him. 

“Do you work tonight?” I nodded, taking a bite of the food in front of me. My brother really was an incredible cook, something he picked up from our mother. “Then tomorrow, do you want to go to that new bar with me? Couple of friends are meeting up, I think it would be good to get out.”

“From one bar to another?” I joked. He rolled his eyes, his gaze pressuring me for an answer. “I’ll go, but I’m only staying for an hour or two. I won't be home until 4 AM tomorrow and I don’t know how much bar environment I can handle.” 

“Why a bar?” 

“Choso,” I sighed, finishing the last bite of the breakfast he had made me. “I make really good money, meet lots of people, have the ins and outs of the night life in this city. It’s a good job for me and I really enjoy it.” The look on his face was something I was all too familiar with. “Choso.” 

“What!” He huffed, throwing his head face down into the pillow. Shaking my head I reached for my own pillow, throwing it over his head receiving a small grunt being muffled through the fabric. He finally sat up, bringing the pillows back to their proper places. “I just think you have other options you should consider for a better future.” 

“What, like the art school?” 

“Y/N they sought YOU out! That doesn’t just happen to anyone! Not to mention it’s the same place-” I lifted my finger over my lips, halting him from finishing his sentence. “I’m just saying.” 

“And I’m just saying I’m 25 and have time to figure out what I want to do. As for right now though, Maki is waiting for me to come join her for half price shots. Not to mention the big fight happened tonight so the bar is probably packed, I should leave within the hour.” Choso gave me an all too familiar look, brows furrowed, pouty lips. I know he means well with what he says to me but, to be honest, it’s something I’m not ready to address yet. “You’re more than welcome to come help out tonight. I know Nanami wouldn’t mind the extra hands.” 

“What and get worked to the bone again just to be paid with under the table tips?” I took the pillow in my hands once more, this time hurling it right in his face. 

“Out.” I motioned towards the door. “Are you coming or not?” 

“I’ll go.” 

The bar I worked at was an underground dive bar located in downtown Shibuya. It was a quick 5 minute walk down the street from my place, right next to the local fighting event center. That was the big thing here in the city, the fights weren’t regulated, completely free style fighting. It was the place to make a name for yourself in this city when it came to fighting, big names started off as small street fighters here. Being that we were the closest bar to the center, made us a very hot spot for the fighters, girlfriends, groupies, stage crew, and college students all alike. 

“What’s it looking like tonight?” I yelled over the loud music blaring in the background of the empty bar. Stamping my card, Choso shimmied his way behind me, locking hands with one of our servers. From behind them, I could see Maki making her way towards me, annoyance written across her face. 

“Big fight happened tonight so Nanami is calling all hands on deck.” She took a smoke out of the pack she kept in her back pocket, offering me one. Placing the stick between my lips, she leaned hers against mine, igniting the borrowed cigarette. The harsh vapor hit the back of my throat, burning ever so slightly. 

“Who won?” I asked, stacking cups behind the bar as Maki stocked popular liquor choices. I could feel a lump in my throat as she placed Bacardi in its preferred spot. 

“Who do you think?” She smirked, putting her smoke out in the drain in front of us. “Alright boys!” She climbed up on the counter, gathering the attention of all the employees in the bar. “There are gonna be a lot of fighters here tonight along with a lot of cops patrolling the area. This is not our first rodeo and I expect tonight to go like any other! You know the rules, you know what to do if a bitch gets out of line so I plan on everyone doing their part tonight.” Maki was the unofficial manager of this place. Nanami doesn’t believe in giving titles out because we’re all here to help each other, the family method. But she’s the only one he trusts enough to leave alone in the bar without him. She was good at it, I admired her a lot for how she can step up to authority so effortlessly.  

10 PM hit and the place was crowded, music blasting from every corner. They weren’t kidding when they said tonight was a sold out show. As the night went on, drinks came and went from my station. The laughs got louder, the drinks got sloppier. 

“What can I get you?” I asked, staring at the couple in front of me. The woman had on a cherry red lip, matching what I would assume was a wig. Her eye makeup shimmering under the strobe lights of the bar. Her partner had a single white stripe, swooping in front of eyes. He had a singular tooth gem on one of his canines, which he didn’t mind showing off. 

“Two stouts and a shot for the winner over there,” he said pointing at the man in the corner who had drinks thrown his way all night. Dark features, broad shoulders. I couldn’t get a good look at his face but I knew exactly who he was. 

“Mai! Another shot for the big one in the corner,” I yelled, sliding the small glass in her direction. “Hey Maki, I’m going out for a smoke.” She nodded, taking the two customers from in front of me. 

Tonight was overwhelming to say the least. Fight nights were always busy but tonight felt a little different. I knew the Fushiguro guy was the talk of the town but I didn’t think he would conjure up this big of a crowd. I slid my phone out of my pocket, planning on doing a quick google search of tonight's fight. “Toji Fushiguro,” I whispered under my breath the exhale of the cigarette smoke. Black hair, scar on his lip, fantastic figure. He looked the part of street fighter, little to no history on his backstory either. “Small town outside Tokyo, has a son huh.” Suddenly, the light that illuminated over me became dark, the heat from someone’s body could be felt very close, almost as if they had pressed themselves up against my back. “Hey man.” 

“Sorry,” he muttered, stepping to the side. “Do you have a smoke?” I turned around coming face to face with his broad chest. My eyes traced up his shirt, the smell of sweat with the masking of burnt sandalwood burning my nostrils. 

“Oh uh yeah sorry.” I opened my half empty box of camel crushes. He smirked, letting out a little huff. 

“Candy cigarettes,” he joked, taking the lighter from my hands. The wic flickered, but nothing lit. Over and over his thumb ran across the spike wheel, but nothing was happening. His eyes darted from the lighter to the cigarette lit in my hand. I placed it between my lips, inhaling as he leaned in to light his own, mimicking the actions of what I did with Maki earlier. Not once did his gaze leave mine as the smoke began to kindle. I could feel my heartbeat surge through my entire body, sensitive to the bitter night breeze trapped in the small alley. He leaned back, his smile barely visible through his pursed lips. He could tell what he was doing. 

“They’re the only ones that don’t taste like ass after having several throughout the day.” I quickly turned my head away from his, trying not to let his aura have such an effect on me, but I was completely in a daze ‘cause of him. 

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” He finally leaned back fully, letting the spotlight illuminate his face instead of hiding it. His skin glistened, the smell of liquor lingering with smoke he had placed between his lips. He was… gorgeous? “What?” He smirked again, looking down at my dumbfounded face. I could feel my cheeks get hot, flushing from his intense gaze that would fluster anyone he looked at. “Let me guess,” he slurred, placing his arm above my head. “Nervous?” 

“No,” I huffed back, avoiding eye contact with the beautiful man in front of me. “Just thinking about how all these strong smells don't mask your cheap bath and body works cologne.” He let out a low chuckle, reaching down and smelling his own shirt. His eyes shifted, lit by the lowlights of the outside smoking area. His consuming gaze felt like he was putting pressure on my whole body. 

“The girl at the mall said it was charming.” He lifted the smoke up to his lips, taking a deep inhale. “What’s your name?” Why was I hesitating so much to speak to him? Was it his aura? Was it because of his cheap cologne? Was it because he was almost double my size and leaning over me a considerable amount? “I’m Toji.” He took one last deep inhale of the smoke he had snagged from me, crushing the bud under his foot. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He pointed to my name tag that was half hidden by the jacket I had on. I quickly pulled it closed, turning around to avoid any more conversation with the intimidating man in front of me. 

“Maybe with that big paycheck you got from tonight's fight, you could invest in something that doesn’t stain the nose so badly.” I could feel him let out a deep chuckle behind me before hearing the door slam shut. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, I finally relaxed my shoulders from the oh so stiff posture I had been holding. I didn’t realize how nervous I actually was until I was left with the heavy atmosphere he had left behind.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You look a little pale.” I looked up meeting the familiar face of my older brother, his expression written with concern. I nodded, tossing the bud of my own smoke into the garbage. I followed Choso back into the bar, immediately losing him in the crowd of people as I struggled to get back to my post. Maki met me with a grasp on the shoulder, switching spots so she could go take a break herself.

As the night went on, we cut people off signaling we closed within the hour which caused small groups to leave in rotations. “Thank god,” Maki sighed, leaning her back against the counter. “Nights like these go back so fast but not fast enough.” 

“Maki, Y/N,” Nanami called over in our direction. “Are you guys staying tonight for drinks?” We both nodded, looking forward to our tradition of staff hang out after a big night. During this time we usually have a round of beers, the regular Nanami speech about how he appreciates our hard work, followed by loud chatting amongst the crew, ending with a singular shot before we start to part ways. 

As I was cleaning the bar in front of me, gathering glasses and loose bills lying around left by friendly drunk customers, Maki tapped my shoulder, gesturing her head to the man standing in front of me. Meeting his dark eyes once more, I could feel the lump in my throat form. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to harass you.” He took a napkin from the pile I had just stacked, placing his hand out in front of me, eyeing the pen in my apron pocket. My hands moved on their own, gently placing the pen in his hand, feeling his rough skin against mine. He quickly scribbled something across it, sliding the napkin in my direction. 

‘Can I have your number?’ I looked up, confused.

“I would give you mine but then there’s the chance you won’t actually text me.” I could feel the curiosity mixed with excitement of multiple coworkers behind me, feeling extremely heavy under the pressure of answering. To avoid this situation anymore, I instinctively wrote down my number, handing it over without making eye contact. And with that, Toji threw a wink in my direction, leaving with a small group out the front door of the bar. I let out a deep sigh, slowly turning around to meet the intense gaze of my coworkers. 

“Girl,” Maki smiled. “We all saw that, right? That just happened?” I felt my face get hot, really hot. What just happened? Why did I give him my actual number and not some random one? He’s right too, if he would’ve given me his number, I wouldn’t know what to do with it? But most of all, WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?

I could feel myself getting dizzy with the thoughts running through my head at what felt like a million miles an hour. Everything happened so fast, I felt like I didn’t have enough time to react. He was so beautiful, and truly I wish I had more words to describe what he was like in my eyes. The way his messy hair fell so easily in front of his eclipse eyes. The scar located on the corner of his rough lips. His smile, that stupid cheesy grin, even made the hairs on the back of my neck wane at the thought of it. Why, of all the beautiful people who attended the bar tonight, why did I stand out?  

“Alright alright,” Nanami gestured at the roaring crowd of tired yet sleepless employees. “One again we had another successful fight night. Only one punch thrown and it wasn’t from one of our staff.” 

“Hey, Y/N.” Maki was smiling ear to ear, breath lingering with the scent of Blue Moon. “So Toji huh? After we heard about the interaction in the alley, man wouldn’t take his eyes off of you.” 

“Shut up Maki!” I lightly brushed her away. “There were a ton of girls sitting at the bar, it could've been anyone.” She rolled her eyes all the way into the back of her head, brows furrowed with a face that read ‘Be fucking for real’. 

“Lucky girl you.” I was desperately trying to grasp on to anything other than the idea he was interested in me. Not that I wasn’t attracted to him but because I was attracted to him. Men like that are elusive, not interested in the quiet life. And that’s all I’ve wanted, ever since I was very small. 

“See you Sunday Y/N. And good work Choso. Threw in a bit extra for you tonight for the last minute help.” Nanami waved us off before locking the doors behind him, walking in the opposite direction with Maki.  

“Y/N?” Choso whispered under his breath, walking slowly behind me on our way home.  The air between us was tense. I knew that if others had seen it, Choso had heard about what had happened. “What happened when you went outside?” 

“Um,” I hesitated, running my fingers through my hair. “I met Toji.” 

“What happened though?” He sounded nervous, voice shaking. 

“Nothing, he just made small talk.” 

“That’s it? Then why did you give him your number?” 

“Choso-” 

“No Y/N.” He stopped in his tracks, causing my own body to freeze. “He may be the top fighter right now but he’s bad news. That man hasn’t committed to anything in his life. All I’ve ever heard about him is bad things, and you want to get involved in that?” 

“Stop!” I turned around, looking at my older brother standing tall in front of me. I know he means well, and I can’t bring myself to be mad at him. But the constant hovering, there’s a certain line that can cause it to feel suffocating.  “Yes I gave him my number, yes I talked to him but why are we just assuming things when nothing has even happened? I get that you’re worried about me and I know you made a promise to look after me but I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t have a say in who I talk to, let alone who I date. And that thought didn’t even cross my mind with Togi! I exchanged a few words with him about cheap cologne and he asked for my number. Tons of guys have done that working at this damn bar! So please, Choso. Please loosen your grip just a little and trust me for once!” 

I was out of breath, the cold autumn night biting at my bare legs as I painfully waited for Choso to respond. But nothing came. Instead he turned around, and walked the other way. Was I too harsh? Did I hurt his feelings just by trying to stand up for myself? Whatever. I let out a deep sigh and continued to head towards my apartment. Things will blow over eventually with Choso like they always do. I get that he is just being overprotective but this is the main reason why I haven’t gone out of my way to date anyone seriously. I’ve had a few flings here and there, but Choso has always been lingering in the background. Ever since the accident with our mother, Choso hasn’t really left my side. I don’t blame him, I’ve kept my grasp just as tight on him in return. We’ve been inseparable for a long time. But as we grow older, I want him to have a family of his own. I want him to follow his own dreams, be his own person. Not just my protector. 

“Yuna,” I called out as I slipped my shoes off at the foot of the front door. “How was it tonight? Quiet?” 

“Mow,” she called out, letting out a relaxed stretch before prancing over to greet me. I picked her up in one quick swoop, holding her close to my chest. 

“What a night Yuna. Pretty sure Choso won’t be around for a couple of days so try not to be too sad about it.” Her loud purs could be heard echoing throughout the silent apartment. She curled up in a small ball in my lap, bringing me what comfort she could without knowing the distress I was feeling. I let out what felt like the 60th deep sigh of my evening, crashing my back into the base of my bed. 

4:15 AM. Will Choso still want me to show up tonight? I should just shoot him a text apologizing for my outburst. As I reached for my phone, it lit up with an unknown number. Why is my heart racing?

“Hope you’re safe. -Toji.” 

I could feel my face flush to what I could assume was that of deep crimson. The heat  was radiating, cheeks warm to the touch. I sat there with my screen illuminating my face in the darkness of the early morning. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s pretty late.” 

“Did you just get home?” 

“About 20 minutes ago.” -Read 4:30 AM. It had been about 10 minutes since he opened that last text message. With that, I put my phone face down, attaching it to my charger. 

Tonight has been so overwhelming, my head felt like it was spinning as I closed my eyes. To be honest I didn’t want to think about it anymore, I knew I wouldn’t sleep if I fixed on any topic that had happened. Just as I could feel the sleep about to take over, I could feel the vibration of my phone go off. 

“I hope I see you around.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Master List

A/N: Helloooo!!! I hope you enjoyed part 1 of this series. I've been in heavy thought of what it means to be in love, indulging in various romance shows, books, movies, music. I know this isn't going to be about the Toji we know but the Toji we wish we could know. Let me know what you think 𓆩♡𓆪

[meanmeanstridemeanmeanpride]

It’s Only Me Who Wants to Wrap Around Your Dreams

David von Erich / reader

(a/n: fluffy. that is all. next fic will be for kerry >:))

This is what Kevin warned you about.

A foot away from you laid David, peacefully asleep on your shared bed. His blonde hair was all over the place from tossing and turning, searching for you to hold. But you’d long left him to rise with the sun.

Two hours prior you awoke to your alarm clock on the nightstand. David held you so tightly you swore he was clawing your side, but it wasn’t discomforting. With a yawn and closed eyes, you reached towards the blaring sound. The soft click silenced the loud beeping, which gave you some peace of mind. You sighed, content, as you turned to face David.

You delicately brushed his bangs before tucking yourself under his chin. You knew better than to try and wake him now, but it was simply nice to just exist with him before the world could pull you into routine.

After a few minutes of snuggling against him, you decided you needed to get up. You managed to wiggle out of his grasp and quietly maneuver around. It was important to you that you didn’t wake David—not now, at least. David deserved what rest he could get, and you promised yourself you wouldn’t steal any.

At first it proved to be a little difficult. Yet after a shower and figuring how to set objects down with little to know noise, it got better. Every now and then you’d turn to check on David, who seemingly slept like a log.

Before you knew it, you were heading downstairs to go water the plants. The sun shone over you, offering you the unforgiving Texas heat. It followed you back inside, rays of light entering from the windows. As you started on breakfast you checked the time and an hour had already passed.

You had checked on David then, and still. Don’t do it, you told yourself. His body knows when to get up.

Over the next fifteen minutes, you cooked and set the table. Stevie Nick’s filled the silence, although she couldn’t quite reach David upstairs. Even if the music had, you doubt it’d disturb him.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to turn up the music.

Everything was plated awhile later. The table was small and cozy, perfect for two. Despite its capacity David kept extra chairs in the garage in case his brothers stopped by. A tight fit, you both knew, but David was used to being so close to them. You vowed to get used to it.

The next song started up, and you headed back to the record stand. Glancing at the stairs, you wondered about David. You missed him. Most of the time he was traveling, and when he wasn’t traveling he was working out or resting. It was the life you agreed to when you married him, yet it wasn’t going to stop you from trying to fit into the puzzle.

You turned back to look into the kitchen, then back to the stairs. The food could withstand some minutes. Determination filled you as you made your way up. You were quick on your tippy toes, careful as to not make a single board creek. (Not that it mattered, Nicks would cover you with her bewitching voice.) When you made it to the doorway, you realized David was undeniably a fighter. So back down you went, and louder the music became. Back up you flew, and back down you dragged.

The loss was evident once the knob couldn’t be pushed any further.

That’s how you found yourself watching him sleep. Breakfast was getting cold and the music was so loud, it could be heard clearly from outside. Or so you could assume, it was loud enough inside.

“You made me, David von Erich,” you murmured to him as you leaned in. Hand above his head, you gave him a firm flick.

You waited, and flicked him again.

After a few more with no results, you climbed on top of him and laid chest to chest. You felt no guilt as you lightly pinched his nose. Kevin told you about this method before you moved out. He had to coach that it was okay because you didn’t seem too comfortable trying to make David gasp awake. Yet here you were.

A moment passed, then two.

Pride surged within you as he sharply inhaled from his mouth. Releasing his nose, you buried your face into his neck.

“Baby?” He groggily rubbed his eyes. You hummed in response.

David tiredly wrapped his arms around you and kissed your hair. “Good mornin’ to you, too.”

“It might as well be noon,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you lifted your head to get a look at him. Eyes open and beautifully blue, his hair still messy. “Wanna come downstairs and eat?”

David proceeded to pull himself up and take you (and the covers) with him. Believing he’d be slow due to his dazed state, you shrieked at suddenly being in the air, but David had a good grip on you. He headed out your bedroom and down the hall.

“I had the weirdest dream.” David said to you as he descended downstairs. Your grip tightened on him, and he shot a grin at you.

“Yeah? Did Fleetwood Mac happen to be there?” You joked as you combed your hand through his hair. Within a few strokes it was untangled. You glanced up at him, and he was staring right back down at you.

“..What?”

“How would you know that?” He questioned as you passed the record stand. It was oddly quiet ever since he awoke.

You could only laugh as you kissed his jaw, “I have my ways.”

[disasterbijamietartt]

Maybe I’m delusional and drank too much wine, but this is why Roy Kent being a closeted queer man explains EVERYTHING

While writing my meta piece about Jamie x Keeley I spent a lot of time thinking “What about Roy?”, since there are no convincing love interests for him aside from Keeley.

And, well, Jamie.

And for the first time I evaluated this as something that really could happen, since now there is the legit possibility that they make homophobia in professional football the prevalent theme in this season and having multiple queer storylines would help to illustrate different point of views and they could explore this with a Roy x Jamie romance plot.

And then I looked at Roy and … basically everything fell into place.

Why he represses his emotions, why he is so so angry, why he is so full with insecurities and struggles with his self-worth, why he is unable to show (physical or emotional) affection to a man without somehow having to taint it with an unnecessarily violent outbreak – the only notable exception being the Hug™️ in “Man City”. Something that hasn’t been addressed by anyone since then, which was a choice I always considered very odd, but postponing Roy’s character development to season 3 makes actually lot’s of sense, if Roy’s struggles are rooted in internalised homophobia. And if being queer in professional sports is the theme of season 3 like mental health was the theme of season 2.

Still makes his angry, violent outbursts really jarring and he has to show accountability, but if the pain he inflicted on others is related to the trauma of being forced to be in the closet for 25 odd years, that would be so heartbreaking. And it would fit into the theme of the show that actually good people like Rebecca or Jamie – and Nate once he gets his redemption – do unforgivable things and inflict pain on people who do not deserve it as a trauma response. Sure, it could be some other trauma – but this explanation would fit so well into this seasons theme, it just makes SO MUCH SENSE to me.

Also, Trent’s critique explains some of Roy’s insecurities, but he already was full of anger at seventeen, so the root of his anger has to be something different – and growing up queer in a hella homophobic surrounding since age ten and forced to stay in the closet unless he wants to throw away his dream career, if that is not a reason to be filled to the brim with anger, I don’t know what is.

And as far as I recall, the only people he actually physically attacks are Colin (the headbutt in 1x3) and Jamie. Then his beef with Trent.

In other words, we only ever see him being irrationally aggressive and violent towards queer coded or canonically queer men. Yes, he usually has reasons that are not related to (coded) sexuality – with the notable exception of “I have to headbutt Jamie before I hug him lest it seems gay!”

And the “ugly, ugly boy”-thing? Vanity is often used for queer coding. So Roy mocks something about Jamie that is queer coded.

This screams internalised homophobia.

But I hear the naysayer going “Aren’t you reaching a bit?”

Maybe, but let us take a look at some ways how Roy is queer coded that come to mind off the top of my head.

First of all: He canonically has a secret double life, where he is notably softer, hangs out with a bunch of elderly women who have no clue who Roy Kent, professional angry footballer, is, and does yoga with them, frequents gay bars, hangs out with drag queens and watches reality tv while sipping rosé, which is a sweet girly drink, like you know “vanilla vodka. such a child.” – in his “real life” Roy would never ever drink rosé or admit to anyone that he watched even a single second of “Lust Conquers All” by accident (Keeley definitely didn’t know, or she would have teased him with this).

Who else has a secret double life? Colin.

And while I hate to be “look, so many gay stereotypes!” … Look, so many gay stereotypes!

Also, both Julie Andrews and Madonna are gay icons? As are Stevie Nicks and Tina Turner

“The Sound of Music” (his favourite) is popular in gay culture and the nuns are implied to be lesbians?

He mouths along when Rebecca sings “Let it go”, with Elsa being queer coded and the song being a queer anthem?

And when I googled “A Wrinkle in Time queer” first thing I got was a paper by the Syracuse University titled “Unusual Children: Queerishness and Strange Growth in A Wrinkle in Time and The Giver”, which discusses the queerness of the main character. You know, the “Am I supposed to be the little girl”-girl?

This are all the pop culture references I could recall off the top of my head, there may be things that are not queer coded, but … one or two, that is a coincidence. Three or more, that is a pattern. You cannot convince me that the writer’s “accidentally” queer coded Roy so extensively if he is supposed to be straight.

(Dear god, the only thing about Ted Lasso that always disappointed me was the lack of explicit queer characters – like, I’d bet with you that the majority of non-queer viewers didn’t get Keeley’s “dip the toe back in the lady pool” line or Colin’s “oh like Grindr?” – and if they now go and make the third season queer as fuck? Bless them!

And just like the next level trolling by Phil and Brett if they were actually spoiling the big love story for years, while everyone thought they were just joking?)

EDIT: Just looked up Gina Gershon, who Roy said he dated once—guess what, according to Wikipedia she’s considered a gay icon 🙃

[harrywavycurly]

Hello 🥰 I have been going through a couple of your series and I just love them so much! I really love the latest update to Bucket of Sunshine ☀️ I was curious about the conversation she had with Eddie when he came to the party for her—either at the party or the Benny’s date (because yes that is totally a date). Thanks so much in advance!! 🖤💗🧁

Hiii babes!! Awe I’m so glad you enjoyed the newest update!! I’ll gladly give you a conversation t for both, one for when Eddie got to the party and one while at Benny’s and I think this fits in perfectly for Fluffy Friday! So enjoy💖

-find all things Bucket of Sunshine here✨

*Eddie didn’t realize what all he was signing up for when he agreed to hang out with you and take you to Benny’s*

“What…are you wearing?” “Eddie remember it’s rude to start a conversation with a question.” “I’m here to recuse you from a house party and you’re giving me a lesson on manners?…really?” “That’s three questions in a row…wanna toss in one more to make it an even four?” “What are you doing?…with…that?” “That’s technically two but I’ll let it slide…now to answer you I’m wearing a sundress and I’m holding your hand…anything else you want to know?” “Uhm why…why are you holding my hand…like that?” “Oh sorry is interlocking the fingers too much? You said you don’t like walking into parties alone so…I figured this was how you wanted to walk in?” “I was just uhm…uh joking…about that.” “Oh okay…well then after you.” “You don’t…have to…let it go…it’s fine..uh it’ll actually make it easier to keep my eye on you if you’re uhm…attached to me…” “worried I’m going to run off huh?” “Not run…more like dance away from me.” “I do like to dance…now come on I’ll introduce you to Henry and Nick.” “Uh how about let’s skip that and go find the real party on the back porch?” “The real party?…” “oh…you’re cute when you’re clueless…come on you’ll be fine.” “Okay…oh look there’s Steve…where are you going?” “I’ll be right back…I have to talk to your brother really quick just…stay here.” “Okay..what’s wrong?” “Uhm…I need…my hand back…” “oh sorry…”

“You uh…have whipped cream on…your lip.” “Oh thank you..that always happens I think it’s because I drink it so fast but I just can’t help it they make the best milkshakes…Eddie why are you looking at me like that? Is there more?” “What? Oh…sorry what did you say?” “Are you okay? Do you need-” “I don’t need to eat if that’s what you’re about to ask me…” “it’s rude to just watch someone eat…” “I’m not watching someone…I’m watching you…there’s a difference.” “Whatever you say…you’re really not hungry?” “I promise I’m fine okay? Now…uhm..how was your day?” “It was good! Stevie took me to the library to return some books I got on how to start a garden…I’m trying to grow sunflowers and they are being a bit tricky.” “Did you just call Steve…Stevie?” “Yes? That’s what I’ve always called him.” “Oh god that’s fucking great! What does he call you?” “Most of the time he calls me sister…or sis.” “Sister? Really?” “Yes like when he comes home he shouts ohhh sister! I’m here! He’s very dramatic.” “Is he uhm..is he nice to you?” “Nice to me? Oh he’s the best…he does get kinda irritated with me at times but yes he’s nice to me…why?” “Just wondering…” “how was your day?” “Why are you so nice to everyone?” “Excuse me?” “Why are you so…nice to people you don’t know or legit assholes who don’t deserve a single second of your time…why are you nice to them?” “I just…I don’t know? I guess because if I’m nice to them they’ll be nice to me and…I just enjoy making people smile.” “I wasn’t nice to you.” “You weren’t mean to me.” “Yes I was…” “no…Eddie you think you’re mean but you’re really not…anyone who takes the time can see it’s just an act you put on…I know you’re not really an asshole.” “Yeah well i sure as shit tried to be and uhm…I shouldn’t have been…so rude.” “It’s okay.” “Are you cold?” “A little…sundresses are all cute and fun until the sun goes down…” “here…” “i need to get a jacket like this it’s so comfy and warm.” “You like it?” “Yeah it’s nice…you sure you don’t want any of my fries?” “Stop trying to feed me.” “Sorry…it’s a habit…”